Tapestry of Time
by dartwing
Summary: A young woman's life comes to a sudden end and she finds herself rather unceremoniously tossed into Middle Earth. It seems, however, that her arrival was not unexpected. What exactly do the Valar want from her? Why is everybody being so secretive? And just why the hell does Glorfindel keep looking at her like that? Herein lies the Chronicles of Keira Darcy.
1. There and Back Again

Hello! Thanks for checking out my story.

Before diving in, there are a few things I would like to mention:

In writing this fanfiction, I have taken elements from all of Tolkien's written world as well as some from the movies. I've read the books but I am the first to say that I am certainly no expert. So please, if you are a Tolkien purist, keep that in mind! I will try and stay as close to canon as my story allows, however.

After reading possibly hundreds of LoTR fanfictions, I really wanted to write one which focuses on Glorfindel. I think his history is absolutely fascinating. Also, he doesn't get much love from the fanfiction world, and I wanted to change that. So yes, this is a romance, and also a 'girl falls into Middle Earth', though hopefully it's not the same old story that's been done thousands of times. The romance will be _slow_. I'm not really a fan of romances that take 10 chapters to develop. I also hate Mary Sues, so I'll do my best to avoid that.

I would absolutely love feedback on this story. Enjoy it? Great! Tell me what you like about it. Do you think it sucks? Tell me, but tell me _why._ Is my character becoming a Mary Suck? Dear god, please let me know. This is the first fanfiction I've ever written, so your reviews will really help me to become a better writer.

DISCLAIMER: This is a blanket statement for the entire story. I do not own anything Lord of the Rings related. It all belongs to the amazing J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own Keira and the plot :)

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" _To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." –J.K. Rowling_

Keira Darcy had always believed in magic. And not in the slight-of-hand, excuse me while I redirect your attention over here type of magic. No, she believed in the magic fully rooted in the world, the type that lived inside the tiny veins of the oak leaf and which made its presence known when the warbler sang its melodic song to the universe. It was the magic beyond the veil of human's eyesight. The type that was ancient and existed without pretense. _Of course it's real,_ she thought to herself. To not believe in it would be madness.

Keira, of course, never told anybody this. This was not something that was commonly accepted in every day conversation. There really wasn't a way to interject, "Oh! Of course I believe in magic, what a silly question!" without appearing delusional and childish.

But the belief was still there. It was pitted in her stomach, an ever-present ache that made its way along the synapses and junctions of her very cells all the way to her heart, where it then circulated throughout her bloodstream, pulsating with certainty and conviction. But still she never told anybody, lest they think her crazy and lock her up in a mental facility. She really didn't have time for that.

So, she sifted her beliefs to the corners of her mind, locked them away and only entertained them when she was certain she wouldn't be found out. She did what she was supposed to do; she got a job, paid her bills, and stewed with the monotony of everyday life, as most are wont to do. Her beliefs may have been childish, but she could not shake them with age and the wisdom that supposedly comes with it. For some reason, as time wore on, she only became even more certain in her beliefs. It was like a secret; one that she was on the cusp of figuring out.

For all her dreamy-eyed nature and unwavering beliefs, there was also a bit of melancholy within her, lying deep beneath the surface. It came from the feeling that the secret magic of the universe was always just out of reach, as if her outstretched fingers only allowed for a tiny tingle of truth that hid itself in the winking of the stars. She had made a reluctant sort of peace with this sadness; she felt as though it had always been a part of her, and probably always would be.

It was no shock then, really, that Keira absolutely loved fantasy books. They gave her reprieve from the steady _drum drum drum_ of everyday life that threatened her sanity. She often subtly placed herself in the stories themselves, and made them her own, twisting the story line to fulfill her own dreams. This was a regular occurrence, one which, though she now skillfully hid from her peers, often made her daze out the window dreamily.

So it really shouldn't have been a surprise to her that she was dreaming when she died. She saw the flash of the headlights veer towards her, like two twin beacons ushering her towards the unknown. She scarcely felt the impact, and had no time to organize her thoughts or steel herself for the pain. Instead, the only thoughts that came to her, without reason or any knowing attached to them, were _here we go again._ What a funny thing to think about in your last moments on earth.

* * *

Across the great divide and through the veil which separates worlds, a rider sat upon his steed, his sharp eyes glancing between the twisting branches of the trees. His golden hair shone against the light which managed to pierce between the branches, almost as if the light itself were searching for him, as if it desired to rest upon his gilded mane and reflect itself to the world. He let out a soft sigh, thinking to himself that he had felt lighter on this day than he had in ages.

Suddenly, a gentle breeze ran through his hair and caressed his face, and his lips parted slightly as his sapphire eyes widened. He could almost hear the small tinkle of joyous laughter, as though Manwë had sent the wind from Valinor itself, for the sole purpose of making its way to rest upon his face and twist throughout his golden hair. He smiled then, a smile so full of joy that the birds themselves had no choice but to stop their melodious tune to peer upon his countenance. Their song then erupted throughout the trees, a symphony so beautiful that it stretched throughout all of Arda, even making its way into the very cracks of Mordor, where a solitary weed, which grew against all odds, seemed to smile amongst the dreary gloom, its minuscule leaves stretching towards the sky in delight. The rider, filled with both hope and certainty, urged his steed forward, towards the trees of Imladris.

" _Noro lim, Asfaloth,"_ he whispered. " _Noro lim!"_

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Keira awoke, rather uncomfortably, along the banks of a bubbling stream, with sharp rocks angling into her back and head. Her mouth felt as though it had been seared with sandpaper, and she could feel her head pulsating in time with her heartbeat. At least she wasn't dead, she thought. Opening her eyes slowly and squinting beneath the warm sun, she groaned as she sat up and brushed away the rocks that had settled into her dark brown hair. She checked herself for injuries and found a slight knot on the back of her head, only bleeding slightly. Tearing off a piece of her shirt, she placed it over the wound and took in her surroundings. A massive tree line stood to her right and its density made peering beyond it impossible. To her left was the stream, with water so clear that she could see the multitude of colorful rocks beneath its surface.

Eyes wide, she took in the landscape and slowly meandered to a large boulder jutting out of the river and leaned against it. She had always had very vivid daydreams, but quickly concluded that this was definitely not one of them. The sky was too bright, the trees too beautiful and she could actually feel the coolness of the river when she danced her fingertips on its surface. Maybe she actually _did_ die. Maybe she had died and gone to heaven _._ She never really believed in the afterlife, but all of her convictions were steadily flying out the proverbial window.

She began to make her way along the banks of the river, not quite trusting herself to navigate the density of the trees. Although, if she really was dead, she thought with a snort, it's not like she could die again.

She had been walking for what seemed like half an hour, though was probably much less, when she felt another's presence make its way into her consciousness. Feeling eyes upon her, a sense of fear made its way along her spine, causing the hair on her skin to rise in helpless defense. She froze in place, taking in a sharp breath as she did so. Then, ever so slowly, she turned around, and her breath was once again stolen from her lungs.

The man that appeared through the thickness of the trees was more than beautiful, and saying that he was merely beautiful did him no justice. It was like saying the sun was hot and the moon was bright. He had rich, mahogany hair that shone against the sun, falling below his shoulders and onto his chest, while a circlet of silver that resembled Celtic knots lay upon his head. He wore a tunic of bright silver that starkly, yet elegantly, contrasted with his hair. As she gazed upon his face, she noticed that he seemed neither young nor old, but his blue eyes, which resembled the sea on a sunny day, seemed to hold within them the very wisdom of the world. His eyes made contact with her now seemingly dull green ones, and they appeared to pierce her very soul. She hastily took a step back for fear that he would judge her in an instant and find her wanting.

As she scrambled backwards, the man lifted his hands in the universal symbol for peace, and slowly made his way towards her. She started breathing heavily, on the verge of hyperventilating, when he began to speak in a lilting tone that seemed to be borne of the very stars themselves.

" _Mae govannen,_ my dear girl. I will not harm you."

Keira sucked in another breath, her heart beating wildly against her ribcage. "Who…who are you? Where am I? Am I dead? Am I…am I in heaven? Because I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to sneak up on people and give them a heart attack in heaven. Or am I in hell? You're not what I thought demon would look like, but maybe that's how they get you…." She didn't really think she had done anything _that_ bad to receive eternal damnation, but maybe the time she stole earrings from the local boutique in her preteen days had done it. "It's a goddamn rite of passage!" She threw out stupidly, forgetting that he wasn't privy to her internal monologue. She glanced up at him again, somewhat embarrassed, and her breath was stolen from her, _again_ , when she noticed his ears. They came to a point and jutted out slightly from his hair.

The man, though she wasn't really sure he even _was_ a man at this point, smiled slightly, his friendly but all too-knowing eyes crinkling in the corners. "I am called Elrond, child, and I am Lord of Rivendell, the place in which you currently reside."

A few moments ticked by as she peered up at him with narrowed eyes while he continued to stare at her. Keira, now a hundred percent over the ridiculousness of the situation, let out a very un-ladylike snort. It began as such, and then snowballed into a fit of giggles. "Hah!" she managed aloud, her shoulders shaking with amusement. Apparently someone had decided to play a prank on her.

Wiping the tears from her face, she looked up at him again. "Did Sarah put you up to this?" Kudos to her, she mused. This certainly made up for the time she photoshopped Nicholas Cage into her family portrait that went unnoticed for months, or the time she put flour in her friends hairdryer. "Because this is all a _very_ impressive joke, but I would kindly like to know where the _hell_ I am."

Elrond's, or whatever his real name was, expressive eyebrows shot up into the expanse of his forehead, and his mouth thinned somewhat, making him seem like a father who was disappointed when his child broke curfew.

"I assure you, child, that this is no _joke._ Now, you will follow me. We have much to discuss. We shall also have your wound tended to."

Keira suddenly remembered the small scrap of fabric she had pressed to the back of her head and glanced at the bright red spot of blood it now held. Whoever this man/being was, he didn't exactly appear to want to harm her. If this was a prank, she thought to herself, she may as well see how it plays out. Somebody had obviously gone to great lengths to fool her. She sincerely hoped it was one of those costplay things. Or was it cosplay? Either way, she shook her head and looked up at the Elrond impersonator.

"Okay _,"_ she said with humor, "I'm Keira Darcy. Lead the way, _Lord Elrond_."

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So there you have the first chapter. I've mapped out the story and have the first 10 written, so I'll try and post weekly updates.

Please review!


	2. Further Down the Rabbit Hole

" _Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossible, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me…Anything can happen, child. Anything can be." –Shel Silverstein_

* * *

 _Definitely not a fucking costplay_ , she thought sardonically as she and her guide made their way across a stone bridge with no rails and steady stream flowing underneath its borders. Her mouth open so wide a small bird could have flown in with ease, she looked around with wide eyes.

The great land stretched before her and her senses became overwhelmed. Glistening waterfalls danced all around, making their way from the tops of the hills down to careen between intricate structures which were nestled into and amongst the hills. The architecture was breathtaking; the stone seemed to glow in the sunlight, with thin columnar beams leading the viewer to believe that the city itself was reaching towards the heavens. A multitude of trees swayed serenely all around, and the air was warm against her skin. Keira lifted her head to stare at the expanse of it, now no longer following Lord Elrond as she froze in place. She then made slow circles as she tried to take it all in.

Elrond turned to watch her with a small smile making its way to his face. Her response was that of childlike wonder. Then, her dazed eyes abruptly snapped to his.

 _What the actual fuck?!_ was all her internal monologue could supply. She knew there were die-hard Tolkien fans in the world, hell _,_ there was even the Hobbiton recreation in New Zealand. But this was too much. Surely nobody had an imagination this good. Even PJ's movies did it no justice.

"Lord Elrond?" she whispered, afraid that her voice would somehow shatter the reality her mind had conceived. His eyes then widened in concern as she slid to her knees, breathing heavily through her nose as she squeezed her eyes shut, bringing her hands up to cover her face. Her mind was playing tricks on her, it _had_ to be. She had hit her head a little too hard and now she was delusional. "This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real, _"_ she breathed aloud as she veered again on the edge of hyperventilating. "I'm dreaming, this is all a dream."

Lord Elrond then knelt beside her, grasping her shoulder slightly as he removed her hands from her face and lifted her chin with his forefinger. "This is no dream, my dear child," he said, kindness laced in his words. "You can either accept the reality that is before you or continue to war with your mind. The choice is yours, though I assure you, no harm will come to you in my lands. You need not to be afraid."

Keira took a deep, shuddering breath and looked up at him. She searched for any hint of deception, trying to see if she could weave herself into his irises and extract any hidden falsehood. When she found none, she nodded her head and picked herself up off the ground with the aid of his outstretched hand. Seeming pleased, Lord Elrond took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow and continued to lead her through the town.

They gradually made their way throughout the weaving stone pathways; Lord Elrond indulging her when Keira stopped to gape around every corner. He appeared to have endless patience, and she felt her fear slowly melting away into wonderment. She had decided to heed Elrond's advice and stop thinking; instead, she would let this all play out for the moment until she could wrap her head around it in solitude.

The elf lord eventually led her into one of the structures. Keira gaped at the vaulted ceilings, her eyes then sliding over to take in the elaborate tapestries which clung to the walls, their woven patterns seeming to breathe the very stories they were trying to convey. Elrond steered her around the twisting corridors, a labyrinth which he navigated with ease, and Keira felt as though she could spend her entire life within its passages and never learn all of its secrets.

Elrond then guided her into one of the rooms. It was open to the elements, the sunlight drifting delicately between beams of twisted wood, with sheer ivory curtains billowing softly in the wind. Tiny leaves of ivy crept into the room which gave it a rather ethereal appearance. There was a large bed in the center, held up by an ornate wooden frame, with what looked like the softest down comforter Keira had ever seen.

"This shall be your living quarters," Lord Elrond then spoke. Keira jumped slightly, forgetting for a moment that the elf was there.

"I'm staying _here?"_ she replied, her voice high in disbelief.

The elf quirked his eyebrow, and replied, "Yes, my dear. Unless you find that you have somewhere else you have to be." Keira shook her head quickly, and Elrond nodded. "Good. Now, have a seat, and I shall tend to your wound."

Keira, again forgetting about the wound, reached her fingers to the open spot on her head, and then pulled them back to see only a small amount of blood. She then sat in the offered chair and faced forward, allowing Elrond to inspect it with deft fingers. She flinched slightly as he cleaned it, her nostrils filling with the scent of bright mint. _Athelas,_ she wondered bewilderingly.

Elrond, finished with his ministrations, said, "The wound does not appear to be too deep. I think you shall survive." Keira merely nodded, not trusting her voice. "You will find any provisions you may need in this room. I shall send someone along shortly to assist you with a bath and dressing. You are to meet me in my study in one hour's time. We have much to discuss."

Keira again could only nod, and as Elrond turned to leave, she hurried towards him and shouted "Wait!" Elrond turned to her then, hovering in the entryway. "Why…why are you being so nice to me? This doesn't make any sense. Not that I'm not grateful!" she added quickly, fearing that she wound offend him. "What if I'm a spy? You don't seem concerned that I _literally_ just showed up on your doorstep."

Elrond quirked his eyebrow, _he really does that too much,_ she thought, and then replied, "And _are_ you a spy, dear?" Keira shook her head quickly, and Elrond gave her a small smile. "I did not think so. There is much that is yet to be revealed, dear girl. All truths shall be illuminated in due time." He then nodded at her again, and disappeared into the corridor, shutting the door behind him on his way out.

 _Well that was fucking cryptic,_ Keira thought sarcastically. She turned back to her room and sat down on the bed. As she flopped down on the feather-light mattress, she brought her hands to her face and covered her eyes. She instructed herself to breathe and tried to convince herself that she wasn't currently in a dream. Her mind started whirling with outrageous possibilities, each one more ludicrous than the next. She started to have a mini panic attack then, and she could feel her heartbeat throbbing in her chest at a rapid speed. A few tears managed to make their way down her cheeks, slipping through the cracks of her tightly squeezed eyes. In the midst of her breakdown, a whispering in the back of her mind countered her panic.

 _Isn't this what you've always wanted, Keira? Haven't you literally dreamed_ _of this? Of being here, in a different world This world? You have two choices: you can either accept that this is happening, or you can drive yourself crazy trying to figure it out. Having a meltdown isn't really going to change anything._

Keira sat up on the bed, wiping her tears from her face. _Buy the ticket, take the ride_ , she mused. A knock on her door jolted her out of her reverie. Crossing the floor to the entrance, she grasped the handle and slowly pulled the door back, its heavy weight creaking with her effort.

On the other side of the doorway was the most beautiful woman Keira had ever seen. The lady elf even put Lord Elrond to shame. Thick, deep brown hair as rich as chocolate that flowed down to her waist, coming to an end with soft ringlets that shone in the light. She had the bluest eyes Keira had ever seen. They sparkled in the sunlight that made its way into Keira's room, and, like Elrond's, seemed to hold an infinite amount of wisdom and kindness. Atop her head sat two perfectly arched eyebrows, and her lips were full and dark, as if they had been permanently stained with the juices from raspberries picked straight from the bush. She had a small, upturned nose, and her skin was without flaws, a perfect shade of ivory that Keira could only _dream_ of having. It was as if the very Sistine Chapel had come to life through her form, though she doubted even Michelangelo would be able to portray her beauty.

Keira realized then that she was staring, and opened the door to fully face the lady elf, taking in a deep breath to address her. "Uhh…hi," was all she could manage, her voice stuck in her throat. The lady elf gave her a wide smile, and Keira had to take a step back lest she be knocked over by her beauty.

The lady elf spoke then, her voice like the soft clinging of bells in the high steeples of a church tower. "Hello, my father told me you had arrived, and I very much wished to meet you," she said. "I am Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond."

Keira's eyes very nearly popped out of her head. She was sure that she must have looked quite comical, and probably resembled a cartoon character.

Keira again found her voice, and replied, "Hi, I-I'm Keira," her voice sounding raspy and rather dull compared to Arwen's. "Would you like to come in?" she said, as she opened the door wide and gestured towards the room. Arwen again gave her a bright smile and moved to enter, seemingly unaware that she was causing Keira to seriously doubt whether or not she had been playing for the wrong team her entire life.

Keira snorted lightly then and shook her head, causing Arwen to turn towards her in amusement. "I'm sorry," Keira stated, "It's just that…you are _exceedingly_ beautiful."

Arwen gave her a soft laugh, which reverberated lightly off of the tall ceiling, and then took both of Keira's hands into her own, pulling her closely. "As are you, Keira," she said kindly, and then led her over to a porcelain tub in an adjacent room that Keira hadn't even realized was there. "Now," she said, "Let us get you bathed and dressed, then I shall take you to my father. I know he is quite eager to speak with you."

Keira then made her way to the tub, eyeing the different oils and soaps and bringing them to her nose to breathe in their heavenly sent, and settled on one that smelled of lavender. Arwen had already begun to fill the tub, using a small pump in the corner of the lavatory. As the water line began to rise, Arwen looked at her expectantly. Keira realized then that she was supposed to get _naked_ in front of the goddess, and her eyebrows lifted on their own accord. "Is something the matter?" the angel had said, looking at Keira with concern. Keira warred with herself for a moment, and then decided that she would rather brave her insecurities than offend the elf-goddess. She shook her head and slowly peeled the clothes from her body. Trying to salvage whatever modicum of modesty she had left, she wrapped her arms across her chest and slid into the tub. Bathing quickly, she then hopped out, dried off and wrapped a towel around her body, following Arwen into her room.

Arwen crossed the room and opened an armoire, flicking through numerous dresses as she eyed them each with concentration. Finally, selecting one, she drew it out and held it up to Keira. "Here," she said, "This one shall be perfect. Put it on, then we shall fix your hair."

The dress was a beautiful dark green and felt softer than silk. She slipped it on quickly and Arwen nodded in approval. She then sat Keira down in the chair and began to fix her hair. She brushed it lightly, and it was somehow was mostly dry already. Arwen worked the ends into ringlets, and, once she seemed pleased with her work, turned to face her. "You look radiant, Keira. Green suits you very well, and it brings out your eyes wonderfully. Now, let us go to meet my father."

Keira's stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies as Arwen led her out the door and through the corridors. They came upon two large wooden doors and Arwen, turning to face her, said, "I must part with you here. My father is just on the other side. I shall meet you later for dinner, however, if you wish."

Keira nodded and smiled at Arwen. "I would like that," she said hurriedly, her excitement building. "Thank you, Arwen," she said to the elf, trying to convey her gratitude in her eyes. Arwen laughed delicately, and gave her a small hug around her middle. "Think nothing of it. I shall meet you later for dinner, Keira."

Arwen turned back towards the corridor again, giving Keira's hand a small squeeze before leaving, and disappeared into the winding hallways. Keira turned to the double doors again, the butterflies now dancing in her stomach as though they were desperate to escape, and knocked. She heard a faint reply of what she assumed meant she was to enter, and slowly opened the door, and poked her head through its cracks.

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Let me know what you think! -dartwing


	3. The Meeting

Firstly, I would like to thank everyone for their reviews and follows/favorites! It seriously makes my day! As I'm going along, I can see that my writing style is changing, and I'm trying to go back and edit before I post to reflect that. Hopefully I will find my voice along the way and I will require fewer edits, meaning I can get these chapters out to y'all more quickly. Anywho, on to the next chapter...:)

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 _"Would you like an adventure now, or would you like to have your tea first?" - J. M. Barrie_

* * *

Keira opened the door and stepped inside Lord Elrond's study, her eyes flitting around as she tried to take everything in. The room was open and bright and cheerful. A sturdy desk with rolls of parchment and several books on top sat in the far left corner, and behind the desk was an expansive bookshelf that stretched from wall to wall. To her right were four armchairs and a coffee table situated in the center, and an open archway that led out to a large stone balcony. Hearing the sudden clearing of a throat to her right, she wheeled around to meet Lord Elrond standing importantly in the corner.

"Keira, you are looking refreshed. Come, have a seat," he said, gesturing to one of the armchairs. "I hope you found your room to your liking."

With a kind smile, she moved to sit down and said, "It's wonderful, Lord Elrond, thank you. I don't know if I told you earlier, but I'm very grateful for everything you've done for me." She gave a slight pause. "Although I still don't really understand _why_ you're being so nice."

Elrond sat in the chair opposite her and smiled. "As I said, my dear, all in good time."

Keira's eyebrows creased a bit at his reply. "You said you wished to speak with me?"

"That I do, Keira. However, I am waiting on a companion of mine to join us. He should be along any moment now; I apologize that we must hold our discussion until then," Elrond replied.

Her hopeful mind instantly flashed with the image of a tall, elderly man with grey robes. "No problem!" she said enthusiastically, "I don't mind waiting."

Elrond nodded, then rising from his chair, said, "Would you care for a glass of wine?"

Keira smiled. "That would be great, thanks." As he moved back to the corner of the room to pour her a glass, her eyes strayed to the bookcase. Silently rising from her seat, she wandered over to it and brushed her hands over the spines of the books, feeling the softly raised inscriptions. She was so engrossed that she completely missed the soft knock at the door.

"Keira," Lord Elrond said behind her, "Come, there is someone I wish for you to meet."

Her fingertips still on the books, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at the newcomer. Eyes widening, her fingers slid from the bookshelf as she slowly turned to face him.

The first thing her eyes registered was a shock of bright, golden hair that fell below the elf's shoulders, and she couldn't help but be reminded of the sunflowers that grew in her father's garden. He stood at least a foot taller than her, and his stance was straight and powerful and commanded the attention of the room. Stepping closer, her breath caught as she looked at his face, which appeared no older than her twenty-six years. It was fair and delicate in its youthfulness, yet strong and unflinching in its surety. His eyes, however, were what drew her closer. They were of the brightest blue and seemed to dance in tune to an unheard music, like there was a joyful cadence somewhere off in the distance that only he was privy to, and they now burned into hers with an unwavering intensity. She suddenly felt frozen in place. It unnerved her, the force behind his gaze, and she wasn't sure if she felt small or large beneath it. A smile came to his face as he stepped towards her and her lips parted slightly.

Elrond, watching her reaction with a smile, said, "Keira, my dear. May I introduce-"

"Oh my god," she whispered, unintentionally cutting off Elrond's introduction as realization crashed down upon her. "Glorfindel?"

The elf's blue eyes widened in surprise and she heard his sudden intake of breath. He slowly took another step forward, and his eyes quickly darted back and forth between hers as his eyebrows pulled together, his gaze now a mixture confusion and some other unnamed emotion she couldn't place. He spoke then, his musical voice barely above a whisper as it seemed to catch on itself. "You- you know who I am?"

She stood star-struck for a moment and didn't even notice when her common sense fluttered out the window. "Yes!" she replied, letting out an airy laugh with a backwards tilt of her head. "Of course I know who you are. You're _Glorfindel_. You were Lord of the House of the Golden Flower in Gondolin during the First Age, and you were there when you defeated a balrog...but you died," she said, her voice quieting at the end. She moved away from the elf to pace back and forth on Elrond's carpet, unaware of the shocked looks the elves were giving her. She continued, excitement building and her heartbeat quickening as she ticked off his history on her fingers. "After that, you went to the Halls of Mandos and then to Valinor...and then Manwë decided to send you back as an emissary in the year 1600 of the Second Age...or was it 1200? Anyway, you faced the Witch-king of Angmar at the Battle of Fornost, and you basically said he wouldn't fall by the hand of man...which is actually kind of funny," she said with a small laugh, "Because if you think about it-"

She abruptly froze on the spot, panic searing through her as she realized her mistake. She clamped a hand over her mouth and her eyes became wide as she stared at the bookcase in front of her. "Shit," she cursed quietly under her breath. Her face scrunched up momentarily and she took a deep breath before nervously turning to face them.

"Umm...I can explain," she said, wringing her hands together while her eyes bounced between the two. "I swear I'm not crazy...please don't lock me in your dungeons! Wait, do you even _have_ dungeons? I know Thranduil does, but it was never really clear if- crap!" She brought her hand over her mouth again and stared at them with wide eyes. Bringing her hand down to her side, she looked at Lord Elrond and repeated in a small voice, "I can explain."

Deep lines sat between Lord Elrond's furrowed brow as he stared at her, and she shrunk in on herself with the weight of his scrutiny. Then, with a glance towards Glorfindel, he spoke, his voice low and serious, "Perhaps that would be wise. Please, sit, and we shall hear your explanation."

She nodded quickly and moved to sit in the armchair while Elrond and Glorfindel followed suit. They sat directly across from her and she felt very much like an ant under a magnifying glass. Peering down at her hands, she nervously fiddled with her nails as she tried to organize her thoughts. She took a sip of her wine that lay forgotten on the table. "Okay," she began, her eyes sliding up to meet Elrond's, "What I'm going to tell you might seem a little...crazy. But please, just hear me out. I promise I'm not delusional." He nodded gravely and she glanced at Glorfindel who did the same. With one more deep breath, she continued, her nerves causing her voice shake slightly. "Okay," she repeated, "I-I'm not actually from this world. I'm from a world called Earth. No 'Middle," just Earth. I have absolutely no idea how I got here. One minute I remember driving home from work, and the next...here I am."

Keira paused, her face full of apprehension as she held her breath and awaited their inevitable skepticism. Lord Elrond, however, merely inclined his head slightly, while Glorfindel gave her a half-smile and inched closer in his seat. She released her breath and her shoulders slumped at their reaction. After a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for hours, she found her voice, which was now high and incredulous. "Wait…you actually believe me?"

Lord Elrond looked at her in what she thought was amusement, which only served to deepen her confusion. "Are you being truthful, Keira?"

"Um...yes," she replied, slowly dragging out the words with an inflection that almost turned it into a question.

"Then yes, we believe your words to be true," he said matter-of-factly.

She narrowed her eyes. "Ok...but why?"

She could have sworn she saw Glorfindel try and hide a smile from the corner of her eye when Lord Elrond replied, his eyebrow quirked in what she definitely decided was amusement. "Would you prefer if we did not believe you, Keira?"

Springing forward in her seat, she shook her hands hurriedly. "No, no, no, that's not what I'm saying, it's just- I just don't understand. Look, I'm not trying to be rude, but how can you just accept what I'm telling you like it's not a big deal? Does this happen often? Do humans from another world regularly drop out of the sky unannounced?" She let out a small huff. "What if…what if I'm evil, what if I'm-"

"A spy?" Lord Elrond interjected. "I thought we had already come to the conclusion that you were _not_ a spy, my dear. Perhaps for the sake of moving this conversation along," he said, "You could inform us as to how you are so well-versed in Lord Glorfindel's history."

Tilting her head back and forth between the two, her eyes still narrowed slightly, she eventually shook her head. "Okay," she said slowly, "Well, like I said, I'm from a world called Earth. In that world, this?" she waved her hands in a circle, "This is all from...from a book...or I guess more like a collection of books. I know about your history because, well because I've loved the stories since I was a little girl. And, well, I-I mean it's not just you," she told a wide-eyed Glorfindel and then turned to Elrond, "It tells about your history, too. And, um, pretty much the entire history of Middle Earth." She heard Glorfindel's sharp intake of breath and turned to face him. He rose suddenly to stand in the archway and look out towards the balcony, his face hidden so that she could no longer see his reaction. She felt her anxiety rise in time with her heartbeat. "But it wasn't real," she continued, "It was fiction, this whole world is supposed to be fiction. That's why I didn't believe you," she said, looking up Elrond, "I thought it was a dream, or-or a prank or _something_. I didn't know it was real. Please, you _have_ to believe me."

The room fell silent as her speech came to an end. Steeling her nerves, she held Lord Elrond's gaze and was met with a penetrating stare. She did her best to not flinch beneath it and set her face in what she hoped was sincerity. He then looked over to Glorfindel and she turned her head to do the same. His back was still to her and he remained silent for a time. After a few minutes, he surprised her by letting out a musical laugh, one which caused his shoulder to shake. Turning to face her, his eyes held humor as well as a certain degree of softness as they locked with hers. "A book?" he said, moving to sit in front of her. "You know of my own history, as well as the history of this world, through a book?"

Her brow furrowed as she tried to decide whether he was truly asking or if he thought she was lying. "Look," she said with another huff, "I know it seems crazy, but I promise you i'm not lying, it really is-"

"Keira," he said with a small smile, effectively cutting her off defensive words. He placed his hand on top of hers from across the chair while she shivered slightly at its warmth. "You misunderstand, I do not believe you to be untruthful. It is merely a lot to take in."

"So...you actually believe me?" she said in a hopeful voice.

With a large smile and a glance to Elrond he replied, "I do, Keira. I believe you."

Letting out a sigh of relief, she also looked over to where Lord Elrond sat. "And do you believe me, too?"

He continued to stare at her for a moment before turning his calculating gaze to Glorfindel. "I suppose I do, Keira," he said, then brought his eyes back to hers. "Although it does seem rather...far-fetched."

"No, I know," she said, her free hand raised to enforce her words, "I know it really doesn't make any sense and I probably sound like an absolute lunatic, but I promise, it really is-" Her words halted and she paused suddenly. Eyes narrowing, she peered at the elf from between her lashes. Her head cocked, she shifted her gaze to Glorfindel and looked at him suspiciously. "Wait," she told him, her voice skeptical as she brought her hand back to cross her arms over her chest, "There's something you're not telling me. Something you're both not telling me." She looked over at Elrond and noticed his almost imperceptible glance towards Glorfindel. "Why is it," she said, her voice wary as she leaned back in her chair to look at the two, "That you both seem to have no trouble accepting that I'm from another world? I mean, you didn't even seem concerned that I literally just popped up on the banks of your river...and it was almost as if you expected me to be there," she said with her head tilted towards Lord Elrond. "And yet you were both surprised that I knew about you and about this world. What aren't you telling me?"

The two elves glanced at each other before Elrond spoke, his lips curved in a small smile. "You are perceptive, Keira."

"So there _is_ something you're not telling me," she said, looking back and forth between the two. "Well? What is it?"

Leaning forward, Lord Elrond gave her a scrutinizing look. "Tell me, Keira. These books...you claim they tell the history of this world. But tell me, do they only tell of its history? Or is there also something you are withholding from us?" She froze and he continued, a knowing look in his eyes, "Do these books merely chronicle our past? Or do they tell of our future, as well?" To her left, Glorfindel's brows pulled together and the intense look returned to his eyes.

"Well that depends," Keira said slowly, her voice quiet as she felt her heart beating against her chest. "Um, could you tell me today's date?"

"It is the fifteenth of June, in the year 3018," Elrond told her, his eyes watching her form closely.

Feeling herself freeze again, she tried her best to school her face into an indifferent mask as her heartbeat raced. With a deep breath, she looked at him, and replied in a small voice, "Then yes...they do." The two elves turned towards each other and seemed to be having a silent conversation with their pointed looks. "Well," she continued, her words picking up speed as her anxiety mounted, "I guess you could say that they tell of a possible future...have you heard of the Chaos Theory? No, I guess you probably haven't, that wouldn't make much sense- it's just that, well, I don't know if my being here, has uh, changed anything...or everything!" she said, her panic rising. Shooting up from her chair, she began to pace on the rug. "Oh my god," she said under her breath, "What if I've changed everything?! What if everything is different now? What if-"

"Keira," Glorfindel said, rising to place a hand on her shoulder to stop her pacing. "You must calm yourself. It does no good to panic." Looking up at his eyes, she took a deep breath and nodded, willing herself to rein in her anxiety. When her heartbeat returned to its normal pace and her breathing slowed, he smiled lightly before steering her back to the chair. "Good. Now," he said, sitting across from her, "You claim to have knowledge of the future of this world, knowledge that may affect the entirety of Middle Earth, should that knowledge come to fruition," he said. "Now, knowing this, would you so willingly part with that knowledge? Would you give up that information so freely?"

Lowering her eyes from his, she rested them on her lap and began to chew on her lower lip. She thought on his words as the two elves watched her silently. Could she tell them of what was going to happen in only a few short months? How would they react? What if they tried to change something, if her being here hadn't done so already? She knew enough about time travel from movies to know that bad things always happened when somebody let slip something about the future. Letting out a breath, she shook her head and looked at Glorfindel. "No, I don't guess I would...I-I suppose knowing too much about your future is never a good thing."

Nodding gravely, he said, "I agree, Keira. You must understand, then, that there are certain things which we must withhold from you, as well." He took her hand in his and she looked down at them, her brows furrowing slightly. "Please understand," he continued and she brought her eyes back to his, "That we do not keep this information from you to hurt you or upset you, but because we believe, just as you do, that it is for the best."

She remained quiet for a moment as she looked at him, and then nodded. "I guess that's fair," she said, and he squeezed her hand lightly before withdrawing it. "Can I ask you a question, though?"

The humor returned to his eyes and he smiled. "You may, Keira."

She hesitated slightly before asking, "Was it the Valar that sent me here?"

His eyebrows shot up, and he glanced over to Lord Elrond who also wore a look of surprise. Clearing his throat, Glorfindel said, "Yes, Keira. They were responsible for your coming here."

Scrunching her nose in confusion, she replied, "Hmm, well that's...odd."

"And why do you find that odd, Keira?" Lord Elrond asked, his head tilted as he seemed to study her.

"Well," she said slowly, "I guess because I don't really see any reason why they _would_ send me here. I mean, it's not like I have some hidden power or anything like that, unless you count me knowing about the future." She paused again and her eyes widened as her thoughts suddenly turned to the Fellowship.

"As I said, Keira," Lord Elrond said, ending her internal deliberation, "Everything will make sense in time. Now," he continued, "We should discuss the nature of your arrival to Imladris; I have no doubt that curious minds will wish to know, and we should have a response already prepared for when they ask." She nodded and he continued, "From this moment on, you are to be my ward. You became separated when traveling with your family and were found by Glorfindel alone and injured inside my lands. Your memory suffered due to your injury and you have no recollection from whence you came, and it was then that I decided to place you in the protection of my care."

She quietly contemplated his words for a moment, then, looking between the two, she raised an eyebrow and said, "And you think people will believe that?"

"Yes, Keira," he replied with a slight roll of his eyes as Glorfindel hid a smile behind his hands, "If I say it to be true, then none shall have cause to doubt it."

"Okay," she said, "Well then I suppose it works for me."

He nodded and rose from his seat. "Very good. Now, I must ask that you allow Glorfindel and I to speak privately. Go, and I will send Arwen to collect you for dinner."

"Sounds good, I'll see you then," she said with a smile, and stood to leave. After a few steps, she turned quickly back to Glorfindel and said, "Oh! I completely forgot to actually introduce myself." She laughed and thrust out her hand. "I'm Keira Darcy, it's a pleasure to officially meet you."

Glorfindel smiled broadly as he took her hand and she couldn't help but smile in return. Gazing down on her, his eyes seemed to twinkle as he said in a deep voice, "And I am Glorfindel. A star shines on the hour of our meeting, Keira Darcy...and the pleasure is all mine."

Keira felt a blush creep on her face as he lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles, and she gave him one last shy smile before turning to leave. As she made her way to the exit, her footsteps began to slow, and she hesitated when she reached the door. Turning back to the elves, she looked at Lord Elrond, and in a small voice she said, "Lord Elrond? May I ask you one more question?" Sensing her change, he frowned and nodded. Her voice became quiet, almost as if she were afraid of his answer. "Did...did I die?"

Glorfindel let out a gasp and she slid her eyes to him, her chest clenching in confirmation at his expression. When she looked back to Lord Elrond, he gave her an almost pitying look and replied, "Yes, Keira. I'm afraid that you did." She felt a sharp stab in heart at his words and nodded, not fully trusting herself to speak. Turning towards the door, she opened it and quickly made her exit, willing herself to keep it together as she strode through the winding corridors.

* * *

As soon as Keira left, Glorfindel rose from his chair and crossed the room to stand at the door and placed his hand softly upon it. He took a deep breath in through his nose, exhaling gently as he closed his eyes.

"You must give her time, my friend," Elrond said, switching to Sindarin now that Keira had left. "She will need to make peace with this on her own accord."

Glorfindel sighed as he nodded and turned to face Elrond. "I know," he whispered. He then walked towards the balcony and stood stoically, his gaze unseeing as he looked towards the trees swaying in the distance. "She knows of me, and of this world. I did not think it possible."

Elrond chuckled. "Yes," he said, moving to join his friend. "It seems as though the Valar have a sense of humor after all." He placed a hand on his shoulder. "You do realize this means she knows-"

"I do," he replied, his voice quiet.

Elrond nodded and turned his gaze outward. "It does serve to make her transition here easier. She knows of your story, and she will undoubtedly make the connection." Elrond patted his friend's shoulder and moved back inside to pour himself another glass of wine. "I must say, I find her to be quite perceptive," he said, and then gave a small chuckle. "And most amusing."

Glorfindel closed his eyes and smiled. Then, with a smile still on his face, he moved inside to join his friend. He looked at Elrond, his eyes alight with knowing, and replied, "I would expect no less."

* * *

OoOoO Glorfindel arrives! Please let me know what you think! -dartwing


	4. New Life

_"At this point I think we need to embrace the weird. High-five it. Give it our phone number." -Jim Zub_

* * *

Dead. Four letters, one syllable. The word tasted like ash in her mouth as she rolled it over her tongue, the finality that it held caused her to pull the blanket up higher to cover her nose. Or perhaps it was the infinality of it that was the current reason for her distress. Unfinality? Not finality? She rolled her eyes and let out a snort. Trust her brain to focus on the correct word usage during an existential crisis. Turning over onto her side and gathering the blankets around her, a silent tear slipped down her cheek and made its way onto the pillowcase. She brought her fingers to her cheek and felt the trail it had left behind, while her thoughts began swimming in her mind before her mental brakes could slow them down.

Okay. So she had died. She grabbed a body-length pillow and stuck it between her legs and held on tightly, squeezing it as though it were there to reassure her that at least a part of her was still alive. With a deep sigh, she peered at the sheer curtains that were rustling softly in the corner of her room. Her brow creased as she watched them drag across the floor, green eyes following the fabric as its gentle actions belied her unease. A deep frown settled over her face _._ For some reason, knowing she had died in her old world somehow made everything seem more real, as though the gravity of what had happened was only now beginning to sink in. It made her head feel heavy and disoriented.

Keira frowned, her stare fixing at a spot beyond the curtains, then swept up to the vaulted ceilings. She had always thought death would be a little more...permanent. A little less 'thrown into a fictitious world' and a little more 'rest in peace for all eternity' type of thing. She squinted her eyes, remembering she didn't exactly have much experience with dying...it was really more of an assumption that the dead would stay dead, not get transported to their favorite novels where the characters were incomprehensibly and irritatingly omniscient to her fate. At the very least, she was happy she landed in this particular book and not something Stephen King related. Her body let out an involuntary shudder and she rolled back over to properly look up at the vaulted ceiling, thinking back to Lord Elrond's words and his accompanying pitying stare as he said them. _Yes, Keira. I'm afraid that you did._

Her eyes closed, and without her consent, images of her dad flitted through her mind. She could easily recall his white hair and weather-worn face, as well as his green eyes that would've matched her own if not for the clouds obscuring his vision. Thinking back to the last time she saw him, she remembered how those eyes had stared back into hers and sought a connection, like there was something in the back of his mind urging him to remember her face. She remembered how her heart broke into tiny little pieces every time he asked who she was and the mask she wore when she calmly told him she was his daughter. For the first time, however, she thanked whatever god was above (Eru and the Valar, her mind supplied) that he no longer remembered her. That was at least a small consolation.

Pulling herself up to rest against the headboard, she thought back to the meeting and just how...surreal it had been. But, she supposed everything about her life had become surreal. Lord Elrond was everything and nothing like what her childhood imagination had envisioned. She conceded that Tolkien had been relatively apt in his description; he was certainly wise, though she assumed living for thousands of years would do that to a person. Also, he was undoubtedly kind. The elf had taken her in and had listened to her story, and only after a slight hesitation, had believed her words. For that, she was exceptionally grateful. And she was even more grateful that she landed in Rivendell, of all places. Another shudder passed through her as she thought where she _could_ have landed, and she sent a silent thanks to the gods again. For all his kindness and wisdom, however, Tolkien did nothing to prepare her for how intense the elf lord was. She remembered how she small she felt under his ancient stare. Honestly, though, next to Glorfindel, Lord Elrond was practically mild in comparison. Her brows came together as her thoughts drifted to the golden-haired elf.

Now _he_ was intense. Almost _too_ intense. She tried to pinpoint how she felt during their encounter, but nothing she had previously experienced in her short twenty-six years was comparable. It was almost...unnerving. He was certainly beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful being she had ever seen. But there was something about the way he looked at her, something that made her feel timid and bold at the same time. It was almost as though her world went a little hazy when their eyes locked...like everything around her drifted into the background, only to become abstract, fuzzy impressions, leaving him the only tangible thing standing. Maybe it was a side-effect of being in Valinor for so long...or maybe from dying and coming back to life. She briefly wondered what she looked like to him, and then grimaced slightly. Probably like a crazy person, if his reaction was anything to go by.

With a heavy sigh, Keira pulled back the covers and moved to the balcony, shaking her head to clear her mind. The air smelled fresh and clean, with the faintest hint of moisture lingering in the breeze. Waterfalls tumbled in the distance, the white noise causing her eyes to become unfocused. The sun, which was just beginning to set, casted out red and orange hues against the edges of the clouds. A light rap on the door made her head snap towards her room and she moved quickly across the room to meet it. Arwen stood on the other side, and the lady elf's expression quickly turned into concern.

"Keira," she said, taking one of her hands into her own with a frown, "you have been crying. Is everything all right?"

She grimaced slightly, realizing she probably looked like a mess. Moving her free hand to wipe under her now dry eyes, she gave Arwen a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Arwen. It's just been a...weird day."

A perfect brow rose on Arwen's forehead and she gave her a calculating look. "You are sure, Keira?" She nodded quickly and Arwen pulled her into a hug. "If ever you should need someone to talk to, I am here. Please do not feel as though you are alone in this."

Nodding her head against Arwen's shoulder, she smiled at the sentiment. Her mind was still swirling with a million incomprehensible thoughts, but she wasn't sure she was ready to talk about what was happening quite yet. She wanted to try to make sense of it in her own mind first. "Thank you...I appreciate that. But really, I'm fine."

Arwen pulled back and smiled kindly at her. Thankfully, she seemed to sense her hesitation. "If you insist, Keira. Now, shall we go to dinner? I am sure you must be hungry."

Keira realized at that moment that she hadn't actually eaten since...well, since before she came here. "That sounds great," she said as she put a hand on her stomach. "I'm actually kind of starving." With another small smile, Arwen looped her arm around Keira's and led her from the room.

* * *

They eventually came to what Keira assumed was Lord Elrond's private dining room. It was about double the size of her living room at home and had a large table in the center with high back chairs surrounding it. The head of the table was occupied by Lord Elrond and Glorfindel was seated to his right, while at his left were two identical elves with matching eager-looking face. Keira's steps faltered slightly as all eyes turned to her and she suddenly felt very awkward. "Um, hi," she said to the room with an equally awkward wave of her hand. The two identical elves practically beamed at her.

"Ah!" one of them said, rising from the chair and making his way to her while the other followed closely behind. "Arwen, I see you have brought us our new resident human! Well, it is about time!"

She let out a small 'oof!' as the elf abruptly engulfed her in a tight hug, her feet coming off the ground as he picked her up to match his height. Still smiling widely, he sat her down and the other elf copied his actions. "We have been most eager for your arrival, Keira," the new one said as he placed her on the ground. "My, but you are rather small," he said, peering down at her with an excited grin. "Look how small she is, brother!"

Keira couldn't help but return their smiles as she looked between them, the resemblance to Lord Elrond evident in their handsome, angular faces. Two sets of bluish-grey eyes twinkled back at her and their teasing eased the awkward atmosphere. "I'll have you know," she said, grinning up at the pair, "that I'm a perfectly average height for a human. Maybe you two are just...really tall."

Both elves snickered. "I like her already, brother," the one on the left said. "She is small _and_ spunky."

Laughing lightly, her smile held as she craned her neck back to look up at them. "Okay…so I know you're Elladan and Elrohir, but which one's which?"

"Oh, that it easy!" the elf to her right said as he drew himself up importantly. "I am Elrohir," he said, his voice deepening as he smoothed out his tunic, "and I am older, wiser, and far more handsome than my brother."

The one to her left, Elladan she gathered, scoffed and rolled his eyes. "The only truth in his words," he said, turning to face Keira, "is that he is, indeed, older. I am obviously the more handsome one."

"Notice he did not say wiser, Keira," Elrohir said behind his hand with a smirk.

Elladan rolled his eyes again. "It was implied, brother. Though I am sure Keira will find that out quickly enough."

She watched their banter with an amused smile, already feeling at ease in their light-hearted presence. "Hmm," she said looking between the two, "maybe it would be easier if I just gave you both nametags and called it a day."

She heard Elrond and Glorfindel chuckle. "Elladan, Elrohir," Elrond said to the two from his seat, "kindly leave Keira be and sit down. I have no doubt she will find you to be equally handsome."

"You forgot to mention wise, father," Elladan said as the pair steered Keira towards the table, their arms resting around her shoulders.

Elrond rolled his eyes. "I am aware."

She laughed as they feigned hurt expressions and sat in the open seat next to Glorfindel. Sneaking a peek at the golden elf, she immediately looked away when their eyes met. Glancing around the table, she saw that each elf was smiling kindly at her, including Glorfindel, and she suddenly felt hyper-aware of her actions. It certainly didn't help that they were all so beautiful it was almost painful to look at them for long. That would certainly take some getting used to. Taking a deep breath, her shoulders rising in time, she let it out slowly and tried to remember how to act normal. "Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Lord Elrond," she said, remembering her manners and hoping she didn't sound as awkward as she felt, "it was really nice of you."

The elf lord smiled at her. "Think nothing of it, Keira. You are my ward, and as such, you are welcome to join us at any time."

She was saved from a reply as a couple of elves entered the room carrying various trays of food. As they set the food down on the table, she noticed an abundance of everything green. She kept the frown from her face as she looked at the spread; it appeared that she was now a vegetarian. The elves began filling their plates. With a small shrug, she reached for the roasted potatoes (which were probably the most unhealthy thing on the table) and served herself a large portion, only to add a small amount of greens on the side. She completely missed the amused look Glorfindel was giving her.

"Would you care for some wine, Keira?" he said, reaching for the bottle that was on the table.

Turning to face him fully for the first time since she sat down, she looked into his bright blue eyes and gave him a tight smile. "That would be great, thanks." As he filled her glass, she let out a small breath she didn't realize she was holding. Wine. Wine always made things better. She wasn't sure why she suddenly felt so self-conscious; she certainly didn't feel this uncomfortable when she met with the two elves earlier. Maybe it was starting to sink in that this was _actually_ happening. She was having dinner with her favorite characters from a novel, and they were acting as if it were completely normal. It was surreal and maybe a tad bit overwhelming. She shot him a small, grateful smile as she reached for her glass and took a large drink, instantly feeling somewhat more relaxed. Elvish wine was definitely more potent than what she was used to, and she was certainly grateful for that at the moment.

They ate in comfortable silence. At least, as comfortable as the situation would allow. She ate her fill, avoiding the temptation to fill the silence with small talk (she assumed immortal beings didn't exactly feel the need to converse idly about the weather) and instead let her mind drift as she sipped on her wine, her anxiety lessening with every drink. Her eyes fixed on her glass, absentmindedly noting the markedly elvish detail in the stemware, she chewed on her lower lip as her thoughts began to stray. When she heard Lord Elrond clear his throat after a few moments, she turned to see everyone looking at her expectantly.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Lord Elrond chuckled. "I was saying, my dear, that you appear to be lost in thought. Is there something on your mind?"

Shifting in her seat, she sat her glass down and turned to face him with a small frown on her face. "There is, actually. I guess I was just wondering what I'm supposed to be doing here...not in like, the grand scheme of things," she amended when his eyebrow rose, "I mean more day-to-day, you know? I'm assuming I won't just be hanging out all the time."

Understanding passed over his face and he nodded. "Ah, I see," he said with a kind smile. "Well, first and foremost, you are to learn Sindarin. We are currently speaking the Common tongue; however, not all elves in my land are versed in the language, and you will find it difficult to communicate should you not."

She nodded. "Okay, that makes sense."

"Good. You will also be learning to speak Quenya."

A moment passed and she cocked her head to the side. Her brows came together, and she stared at him with a small frown. She slid her eyes to Glorfindel and saw that he was watching her, though his expression was unreadable. "Wait," she said, looking back to Lord Elrond, "I'm learning Quenya? Why?"

Lord Elrond brought his elbows to the table and rested his chin on his hands, fixing her with his stare. "Do you not wish to learn Quenya, my dear?"

Her eyes made their way around the table, looking at each of the elves in question. Apparently, she was the only one confused by the statement. "No, it's not that," she said, bringing her gaze back Elrond, "I guess I'm just a little confused as to _why_ I would be learning it...isn't Quenya a dead language?"

The elf raised his brow. "Dead language?"

She was silent for a beat and glanced over to Glorfindel to find that he was now watching her intently. He turned his body more towards her and rested his chin on one hand, his elbow propped on the table. He appeared to be studying her as she spoke, and she felt somewhat self-conscious again as she turned to Elrond. "Yeah, a dead language," she said hesitantly, sincerely hoping she wasn't insulting the elves. She racked her brain to figure out the best way to explain it. With a small breath, she continued. "On Earth, we have a language called Latin. It's one of the oldest languages in the world, but nobody actually speaks it anymore...that's why it's considered a dead language." She paused again. "I thought the Noldor eventually switched to Sindarin in the First Age? And I'm pretty sure after that it was only used for poetic purposes. The only reason anyone would learn Latin is if they wanted to be a _scholar_ of Latin...wouldn't it be the same with Quenya?"

Lord Elrond stared at her for a moment, his face now unreadable. Then, glancing at Glorfindel, his voice held humor as he said, "Perhaps I was a bit hasty when I said her knowledge of this world was a good thing."

She looked at Glorfindel to see him chuckling, his eyes trained on her as he leaned back in his chair. "You are correct to say that Quenya is no longer spoken freely throughout Middle Earth, Keira," the golden elf said, "however, it is commonly used as a formality between elves. Being a ward of Lord Elrond, it would only be proper that you are also versed in the language."

"Oh," she finished, somewhat lamely. She turned back to Elrond with a quizzical look. "So does that mean Aragorn also speaks Quenya?"

Across the table, the twins snickered as Lord Elrond let out a sigh. "My dear, I fear for your teacher. It seems as though you have questions at every turn," he said, his voice a mixture of humor and exasperation.

Keira felt the blush rise on her cheeks. "Sorry...I, uh, get that a lot."

"I have no doubt, Keira," he replied, though not unkind, his eyes mirthful.

"So I'm going to learn both of them at the same time?" He nodded, which caused her to grimace. The elf looked at her questioningly. "Sorry, but I think you are _way_ over-estimating my language-learning abilities. I'll probably just make a mess of them both, to be honest."

"I have the utmost confidence in you, Keira."

Her eyebrows lifted and she grabbed her wine from the table and took a sip. She assumed it was useless to tell him that her two semesters of Spanish in college resulted in her being able to ask where the library is and how to order another beer.

"Okay," she said, "so I'm going to learn Sindarin and Quenya. What else am I supposed to be doing?"

"What else do you wish to do, Keira?" Lord Elrond asked as he picked up his own wine glass. He watched her intently as he brought it to his mouth.

"Hmm…" she deliberated, unaware of Glorfindel's eyes on her. She began to chew on her lower lip again as she thought. As her mind whirled with possibilities, they eventually settled on the council that would take place in a few short months. She knew the Fellowship would form in this very place, and suddenly, she had made up her mind.

"I'd like to learn how to use a weapon. Like the sword and archery," she told Elrond, her face set as she looked at him.

The elf seemed pleased with her choice. "Very well. I think that would be most wise." She smiled and nodded, feeling satisfied with her decision. "However," he continued, "I think it would be best if you chose one skill to master; learning two weapons concurrently may prove to be tedious and may hinder your progress."

She couldn't help her snort of laughter. "Oh, you mean like with Sindarin and Quenya?" Her eyes then went wide and she brought a hand to cover her mouth. The twins snickered loudly and Arwen let out a dainty laugh, while Glorfindel tried to hide a smile behind his hands as he looked between her and Elrond. "Sorry," she said, bringing her hand to rest in her lap, feeling somewhat embarrassed that she had just used sarcasm on the Lord of Rivendell.

Thankfully, the elf did not seem to be insulted. His eyebrows were raised and his face showed thinly-veiled amusement. Glancing at Glorfindel, a small smile on his face, he said, "Choose one, Keira."

"Right," she said, grimacing slightly as she shook off her embarrassment. She thought about it for a moment, trying to decide which one would be the most practical of the two. Glorfindel and Elrond watched her intently as she thought. "I think…" she said, tilting her head to one side, "I think I'd rather learn the sword."

The two elves shared a look before Elrond nodded. "A wise choice. I believe becoming proficient in the sword will only serve to aid you in these trying times. You are undoubtedly aware of the evil growing throughout Middle Earth, and I think being able to protect yourself is of the utmost importance." She nodded her agreement. "Lord Glorfindel is to be your teacher. You are to start your training tomorrow, and will be followed by your lessons in Sindarin and Quenya."

"Wait," she said, looking at Glorfindel in surprise. Her voice high and incredulous, she said, " _You're_ going to be teaching me the sword?"

The golden elf nodded with a smile, his blue eyes soft as he looked at her. "Yes, Keira. I am to be your teacher. However, if you would prefer-"

"No, no, no!" she said hurriedly, cutting him off before he could suggest otherwise. "I prefer you," she said quickly and the golden elf gave her a tender smile that matched his eyes. "I just- I mean, you're one of the most powerful elves in all of Middle Earth! I guess I just assumed you would have better things to do than to teach me, to be honest. And you're a Lord!" She hesitated, a confused frown on her face. "Are you sure you have the time to teach me? And that you don't have anything more important to do?"

Glorfindel was silent for a moment as he looked at her. Again, and with no indication or warning, everything around her became a little fuzzy as his blue eyes met her green. His head turned to the side and his lips quirked in a half-smile. She had to remind herself to breathe. Frozen in place, she forgot the other elves at the table as his smile widened. "Nay, Keira," he said, his voice quiet, so much so that she had to strain to listen, "I most certainly have the time, and I do not have anything more important that would require my attention. I will gladly be your teacher, if you would have me as such."

She sucked in a small breath and nodded. "I would love that," she said, her voice small. His smile widened noticeably and she couldn't help but return it, although hers was a bit shy. Their eyes remained locked until she heard Lord Elrond speak.

"Well, now that we have that settled, I suggest that we should retire for the night. Your lessons will start tomorrow, Keira, and you will undoubtedly need your rest."

Keira nodded towards him and rose from her seat while the others did the same. They made their way towards the door that led out to the corridors and the twins took turns engulfing her in large bear hugs. Arwen's hug was much more gentle, and Lord Elrond surprised her by giving her one as well. " _Losto vae_ , Keira," he said, "we shall speak more tomorrow."

She gave him a kind smile as he patted her shoulder. "Good night, Lord Elrond." The four elves left through the doorway, until only she and Glorfindel were left. She turned to him and briefly met his eyes, giving him a tight smile as she did so. The air felt tense around them, and she couldn't figure out why. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it certainly wasn't the ease she felt around Elladan or Elrohir. Or even Lord Elrond. Maybe this was just the effect he had on people...or maybe just poor, unassuming mortals.

"May I escort you to your room, Keira?" he asked her, his musical voice deep. She craned her head back to look at him. His blue eyes were kind and his smile was sincere. Maybe she had just been overthinking everything. Maybe she felt awkward around him because he had always been her favorite character (though she would never tell him that) and he was now actually _real_. She took a deep breath. She could totally be normal. Definitely.

"Um, that would be great, actually. I would probably just get lost if I tried to find it by myself. I'm, uh, somewhat directionally challenged."

He smiled down at her for a minute. "Hmm," he eventually said, tapping a finger to his chin with a serious expression, "that is a problem. Perhaps it would be best if I were to draw you up a map for future reference."

A slow smile spread on her face as she watched his expression turn into a smirk. Did he just make a joke? And why did that surprise her? She cocked her head to the side as she continued to look up at him, the smile still on her face. "I know you're joking, but I'm completely serious. I could get lost in a square room. It's that bad."

He let out a beautiful bark of laughter, his head falling back and his golden hair spilling over his shoulders. His bright blue eyes were twinkling as he held out his arm for her to take. "Well then," he said, "I will see what I can do. I would hate for your time to be spent roaming around the corridors, wasting away as you searched for your room. Perhaps a map would be best."

She snorted indelicately and his eyes crinkled in the corners while his mouth pulled up in a half-smile. "It definitely wouldn't hurt," she said as she looped her arm in his. He chuckled as they left the dining room and headed out into the corridors.

The walk back was slow and easy, all of the previous tension she felt melting away as he led her through the winding halls. He would stop at times to point out something of interest, and she listened with rapt attention as he explained the history behind a certain artifact or a tapestry that hung from the wall. There were times, however, that she would catch herself staring at him while he spoke. His face was a beautiful mixture of perfection and joy. It lit up when he spoke, and he drew her in with every word. Then, as if he could feel her staring, he would turn to her with a half-smile and she would immediately look away, no doubt blushing from being caught. He never commented on it, thankfully, and she assumed he was probably used to it.

He continued to make easy jokes, and she continued to be surprised by his sense of humor. As they eventually came to her room, he had just made her laugh again, and they came to a stop outside her door. She looked up at him, still chuckling, her head cocked to the side as she gave him a somewhat quizzical look.

"What is it, Keira?" he asked, noticing her expression.

"You're funny," she said, her head still cocked and her voice somewhat disbelieving.

He raised an eyebrow. "This surprises you?"

Her brows knit together and she shook her head. "No- well, yes, maybe a little." Both eyebrows raised and he now tilted his head to the side, the smile never leaving his lips. "It's just that, well," she continued, "you're just so...old."

His face flashed with surprise for a just a second. Then, it morphed into amusement. "You think me old, Keira?" he said in mock hurt, his hand covering his heart while he pretended to look wounded. His blue eyes were twinkling again.

"I mean, um, yes? What are you, like, six...thousand?" She couldn't help the eruption of giggles that left her. Covering her mouth to try and stifle them, she looked back to his face and they started all over again when his feigned hurt expression held. They continued for a few moments and he rolled his eyes, though the smile never left his lips.

"Are you quite done?" he asked, one eyebrow raised at her antics.

Wiping a tear from her face, she nodded and tried to keep from smiling. "Yes, I'm done, I promise."

He rolled his eyes again, an amused smile on his face. Then, he took her right hand with his and brought it close to his lips. He was bent slightly so that his eyes matched with hers, and suddenly, the tension had returned. She could see the tiny flecks of gold in his blue eyes. Keira sucked in a small breath and her eyes widened fractionally, and she could feel his soft breath against her knuckles as he spoke, his voice taking on an even deeper tone. "I have lost many things over the course of my long life, Keira," he said, his eyes softening around the edges, "though I assure you, my sense of humor is not one of them." He then brought his lips to her hand and kissed it gently. " _Losto vae_ , Keira. I look forward to our training tomorrow."

All she could do was nod as he squeezed her hand in goodbye. She watched his retreating form for a moment before backing into her room, her hand fuddling with the doorknob as she tried to keep her heart rate in check. Quickly, she brushed her teeth and stripped off her dress, and after searching in her dresser for something to sleep in, she slipped it on quickly and got into bed.

Her mind whirled as she brought the covers up to her face. Staring at the ceiling, she still fought with her racing heartbeat and let out a long, slow breath. That elf was the epitome of confusing. One moment, she felt perfectly at ease in his presence, and the next, she could hardly remember to breathe around him. Again, she felt unnerved. Shaking her head, she snuggled further into the blankets and rolled over onto her side.

It seemed as though her new life had been all planned out for the time being. She couldn't lie, she was incredibly excited to learn the sword, even if her teacher was intimidating and unnerving. It was _Glorfindel_. She was going to learn the sword from one of the most (if not _the_ most) powerful elves in the history of Middle Earth. The thought was both thrilling, and, if she were being completely honest, more than a little daunting. She briefly wondered who was going to be teaching her Sindarin and Quenya, and sincerely hoped that the elf would have a lot of patience. It still struck her as odd that she would be learning both, especially at the same time, but she figured Glorfindel was right when he said it was expected as a ward of Lord Elrond. She would have to ask Aragorn about that when he showed up.

As her body became more relaxed and her heartbeat finally came to a more natural pace, her eyes began to drift shut and her breathing slowed, the absolute exhaustion of the day beginning to overtake her. Her sleep was mostly dreamless, though images of sunflowers and bright blue eyes flashed through her mind in the quiet of the night. But she would not remember them when she awoke.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! So sorry for the delay. I just got a new job, and it's my first time working in a hospital (I'm in nursing school...only one semester left! Yayayay!). Let me tell you, it's exhausting...but I love it! Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. I apologize if there are any grammatical errors in this...I should really get a beta. As always, your reviews/follows/favorites absolutely make my day a hundred times brighter. I cannot tell you how much they mean to me! I am so thankful for each and every one of you. Love you all to pieces! -dartwing**


	5. Of Wooden Swords and Languages

" _Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four." -J.K.R._

* * *

Keira woke abruptly to an insistent rapping on her door. She shot straight up in bed, her hair sticking out wildly and feeling thoroughly disoriented. Her brain scrambled to remember where she was, and reality slowly seeped in as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

It was still dark out, and she had to squint to make out the solid impressions of her room. Looking out towards her balcony, she could see the rounding edge of the sun just starting to peek out in the sky, its golden hue barely making its presence known. The rapping continued, louder this time, and she tossed her covers back and stepped out of bed, shivering when her feet hit the cool floor. She crossed the room and opened the door a crack to find Elladan and Elrohir grinning excitedly down at her. She was beginning to wonder if those were their permanent expressions.

"Nice hair, Keira," the one on the right said as he reached through the crack to tousle it lightly.

Batting it away, she scrunched her nose and yawned widely. "What time is it?"

"It is time to start the day, of course!" the left one said with a bright smile, his voice way too eager for anything remotely this early.

Keira turned her head to look at the balcony and then back to the elves. "Are you sure? I think the sun would disagree with you. Even it isn't awake yet."

The elves just snickered and pushed their way inside. She quickly grabbed a robe that was laying on a nearby chair to cover herself. "Please, do come in," she said, grinning as she slid her arm through the robe and tied it around her waist.

"Much obliged, Keira," the one closest to her said in his most formal tone.

"Okay, wait. Don't tell me. El-ladon?" she said. This one was slightly taller than the other, maybe by half an inch or so.

The elf beamed. "You see, brother?" he said as he stood up straight and straightened his tunic. "I told you she would recognize my handsomeness."

"Perhaps it was your high-pitched voice she recognized, brother," Elrohir replied. "It is rather like the chirp of a small bird."

She snorted and ran a hand through her tangled hair. The twins continued to bicker back and forth, so she took a moment to step into the adjacent bathroom and peer at her reflection in the mirror.

Tired, green eyes stared back at her. Same old Keira Darcy. It was somehow comforting, and she took solace from her familiar reflection; her entire world had been flipped on its hinges, but at least her appearance hadn't changed. She shrugged, and her reflection did the same. Opening the cabinet to her right, she found a brush and started to work out the tangles. Digging around in the cabinet some more, she found a small piece of leather and tied it up in a quick ponytail. She finished her business quickly, and, giving herself another once over in the mirror, she nodded at her reflection and stepped back out into her room.

Elladan was sitting in a chair (or at least, she assumed it was Elladan - she couldn't really tell the difference when they weren't standing next to each other), drumming his fingers on her desk with a bored expression, while Elrohir was splayed out on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Well, it is about time," Elrohir said as he sat up, "I was afraid we were going to have to- Keira! What have you done to your hair?!"

She gave him a confused look as he hopped off the bed to stare bewilderedly down at her hair. Running one hand through it self-consciously, she said, "What? What do you mean? I just put it in a ponytail..."

"And why would you wish for your hair to resemble a pony's tail, Keira?" the elf asked, incredulous.

She snorted. "I don't know...that's just how people fix where I'm from. I'm, uh, guessing that's not a thing here."

Elrohir scoffed and reached over to undo the leather tie. He took her by the shoulders, shooed his brother from the chair and told her to sit. He then moved around to the other side, shaking his head as he fixed it.

"Okay, weird-o."

He tugged gently on her hair, which caused her to look back at his upside down face. "Says the one trying to emulate a horse."

Rolling her eyes, she reached back and felt that he had put it in a simple braid. "Better?"

"Much," he said, patting her on the head with a satisfied grin.

She chuckled and moved to her dresser, searching for something that would be suitable for training. All she found were dresses. "Um, guys? What exactly am I supposed to wear?"

"Ah, yes." Elladan said. He picked up a bundle of clothes from the edge of her bed and handed it to her. He smirked. "These are from Arwen; they were hers when she was but a small elfling."

"I'm going to assume that was a crack about my height," she said, eyebrows raised. His expression was boyish and innocent. "Uh-huh. All right, out you two. I'll be ready in a moment."

Once she was alone, she stripped off her robe and nightgown, tossed them on the bed, and dressed quickly in the dark green tights and soft, white tunic. The tights were a bit too long (Elladan definitely didn't need to know that) so she rolled them up and pulled on her socks. Arwen had also gifted her with a pair of brown boots that laced around the ankles, and she slid them on, surprised to find that they fit damn near perfectly. Standing up straight, she smoothed out her new outfit and joined the twins who were waiting just outside her door.

"Ready?" the taller elf asked.

She nodded. "Ready."

The trio made their way through the winding corridors and eventually outside, the crisp morning air helping to shake away the last remnants of fatigue. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, with about half of its expanse illuminating the dirt path they were following. The twins, who were situated on either side of her, were talking animatedly back and forth as they trekked along. Keira, however, was only listening half-heartedly, too absorbed with her own thoughts to offer any input to their conversation.

She was a mixture of giddy excitement and nervousness, and the two emotions were currently battling for dominance in the pit of her stomach. It seemed, however, that her nerves were winning. There were butterflies dancing around her ribcage, and she took a big gulp of air and held it in, hoping to somehow suffocate the internal insects and stop their squirming. It didn't work. She released her breath slowly. Maybe she should have eaten something before she left. Although, there was the off-chance that she would just throw it all up, and she highly doubted Glorfindel would be impressed with that.

Trying to reign in her emotions, she shook her head and straightened her shoulders. _Okay_ , _you can totally do this. It's just a training session, no big deal._ Her mind seemed to mock her as it reminded her that it was a _just_ a training session with the most powerful elf in all of existence. _Not helping, brain!_

Elladan and Elrohir were seemingly oblivious to her internal struggle. Their light-hearted conversation became her distraction, her anchor. After a walk that seemed to be over before it began, they came around a bend in the path to the training grounds. Keira's butterflies increased about ten-fold when she spotted Glorfindel waiting for them on the other side.

He was tall and lean, wearing a simple tunic and tights that highlighted his muscular form. His trademark golden hair rested over his shoulders, the sunlight making it glow even brighter in the warmth of the day. He stood proudly, though he made it appear effortless and unintentional, and the warrior in him was evident. He gave her a bright smile and she had to remind herself to breathe. Again. Coming to a halt before him, she glanced up at his blue eyes and, reminding herself to _be normal,_ returned his smile.

"Good morning, Keira," he said, his deep voice rich and his tone polite. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a rock, thanks."

One perfect eyebrow raised. "A rock?"

"Oh right, um, it's an expression. It means I slept really well."

He grinned. "I see."

"And yourself?"

"Like a rock."

A short burst of air left her nose. She felt her nerves lessen slightly and the butterflies mercifully slowed to a crawl in her ribcage. She could definitely do this.

"Are you ready to begin, Keira?"

"Yes, totally." He chuckled and moved off to the side of the grounds, gesturing for her to wait, while Elladan and Elrohir sat beneath a large tree. Apparently they were going to watch, and she tried to squash down the infernal butterflies once more. Turning around, her eyes panned across the training grounds.

It was about half the size of a standard football field, with soft grass covering the ground and tall trees flanking the outer edges. She could see several elves already training. Their movements were inhumanly fast and fluid, resembling ethereal, deadly dancers. Her mouth parted, marveling at the speed. She tried to force herself not to be intimidated, though it certainly wasn't easy.

Deciding that maybe it was best to not watch, she turned around and saw that Glorfindel was making his way back, holding a small, wooden sword in his hand. When he was close enough, he held it out for her to take.

"Hmm," she said. She held it closer for inspection, turning it over in her palm and running her hand along the side. "I guess the movies got it wrong. I always thought swords would be a little more sharp, pointy even. And maybe a little less...wooden."

His return look was deadpan. Then, he tilted his head towards the sky and let out an exaggerated sigh. "I am not even going to ask what a 'movie' is, Keira." She snorted, and he faced her again. "This is a training sword," he continued. "Once I believe you are ready, we will move on to a real sword. Until then, this is the much safer alternative."

"That's...probably for the best."

He moved closer. "Indeed. Now, your right hand is dominant, correct?" She nodded. "Then you are to hold the sword in that hand. Your grip should be firm, but you do not want it so tight that it restricts your movements."

She tried to copy his instructions. "Like this?"

"Almost." He repositioned her hold, his long, elegant fingers wrapping around her small ones as he did so. She tried not to shiver. "Your thumb and first two fingers should bear most of the weight of the grip, while the others should curl around it loosely. Understand?"

"Got it," she said, trying to memorize her repositioned fingers.

"Good. Now, I want you to show me your stance."

Her eyebrows creased and she looked up at him questioningly. "Um, I'm not really sure that I _have_ a stance." The twins snickered behind her and she shot them her best glare from over her shoulder.

His smile was patient, but it made her feel woefully incompetent. "Imagine you are about to be struck by an opponent," he said. "I need to see your natural pose before I am able to correct it."

She moved into what she thought would be her stance. Then, he circled her, much like a hawk would circle its prey, studying her form with one hand resting on his chin. Her eyes panned to random spots in the distance and she willed herself to, again, _be_ _normal_. It worked for a moment, until the elf moved directly behind her, his tall form shadowing hers as he pulled her shoulders straight. She could feel his broad chest against her back, and her heartbeat spiked in her chest. He then placed a hand on the lower portion of her back and pushed forward gently to straighten her spine. He moved about her form making adjustments, and the combination of unearthly male beauty and proximity caused her composure to falter.

"Are you all right, Keira?" he asked, way too close to her ear.

"I'm fine," she replied, though her traitorous voice came out a bit too high to be believable. He nodded and finished correcting her stance, and she let out a thankful breath when he moved a safe distance away. "Okay," she said, her voice returning to its normal pitch, "what now?"

"Now you are to hold that stance for as long as you can. Remember, your feet should be shoulder width apart, and your leading foot should be slightly forward. Keep your knees bent and focus your weight on the balls of your feet. And try to remain relaxed."

She nodded and held her stance. It was easy enough at first, though it didn't take long for her muscles to start protesting. What started as a light prickle in her arms and legs quickly turned into a deep burn. When her shoulders began to droop, he tapped her elbow lightly and she brought them back up. After a few minutes, her limbs began to shake and she could not longer hold it. She let out a deep breath as she shook away the discomfort and looked to him for further direction.

"Good. Again."

They continued this cycle several times, Glorfindel correcting her stance each time she broke it. "Your stance should be as natural as breathing," he said, tapping on her elbow again as he continued to circle her. "It should be effortless and require no thought. Only once you have mastered this will we move forward in your training."

Keira nodded at the golden elf. The time between her breaks became less and less, and eventually, she could only hold it for a few seconds at a time. By that point, her muscles were positively screaming at her. The sun was beating down on her neck and she wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her forearm.

"Very good, Keira. I believe that is enough for today." She let out a grateful sigh as he took the wooden sword. "Now, you will run."

She balked. Oh god...when was the last time she had ran? High school, maybe? "Is this because I said you were old?" she asked, shielding her eyes to peer up at him.

He chuckled. "Only partly. You must build stamina if you wish to become proficient at the sword," he told her. "You are to run every day. It will become easier with time, I assure you."

She wasn't really sure she believed that. "Okay, but I feel like I should probably warn you, running and I have never gotten along," she said, a slight grimace. "I mean, it's bad. Like, they kicked me off the cross country team in high school. And it was _voluntary_."

"We will run with you, Keira!" she heard from behind her, and turned to see Elladan and Elrohir jogging up to stand at her side. "We simply refuse to let you face this evil on your own. Never fear!" Elladan said dramatically, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She snorted and rolled her eyes, but was grateful. She could use all the help she could get. "How very valiant of you both." They preened at her words. "Again, I'm going to warn you. This will probably be the slowest you have ever ran. I'm talking snail-pace."

"It is no matter, Keira! Elladan has always been rather slow himself, so I am sure it will not be that much of a difference." She laughed as Elladan punched his brother's shoulder and turned to face Glorfindel. "So, how far am I supposed to run?"

"To the eastern bridge and back, it is located on the outer edge of the settlement. These two know of which one I speak," he said, looking between the twins. They nodded and steered her towards a dirt path. Did he just say outer edge of the _settlement_? Sparing no time for her to panic, they pushed her forward and took off along the path.

The brothers let her set the pace, and she wasn't lying when she said it would be slow. It hardly constituted as running at this point, her feet hardly lifting from the ground between strides. Elladan and Elrohir were having an easy conversation over the top of her head, but she decided to save her precious oxygen. She was surely going to need it.

At first, the jog was actually somewhat enjoyable. It was still running, however, and she definitely would have preferred a nice, leisurely stroll instead. The pristine landscape came into view as they jogged down a slight hill, and she spotted birds chirping away happily in the canopy of an overhead tree. She smiled at the elves beside her, grateful again for the kindness they showed. _Maybe running isn't that bad, after all_ , she thought, her feet padding along the dirt pathway.

She soon came to find out that she had never been more wrong. Running was, indeed, that bad. After about ten minutes or so, her calf muscles began burning and her lungs felt like they were being squeezed by the fists of a tiny invisible person who was angry at her for stealing their oxygen. Her legs were aching, and she was sweating, badly. _Just how big is this fucking settlement?!_ They hadn't even made it to the bridge yet, and already she felt like she was going to pass out or throw up. Or both.

The bridge finally came into view and she wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. Again, maybe both. The twins ushered her on as they turned back the way they came. No longer able to focus on the beautiful landscape, she put everything she had into remembering how to breathe and putting one foot in front of the other. They passed several elves along the way, and they all glanced curiously at the sweaty, dying mortal. She didn't have the energy to care.

"Come along, Keira! We are almost there!"

She bit back the string of expletives on the tip of her tongue. "I'm pretty sure we're like thirty miles away, Elladan," she said between gasps of air. The elves just laughed at her and she would have punched them if she'd had the strength. She had to remind herself multiple times that she had asked for this. She hadn't expected it to be easy, and she really didn't have the right to complain. _Just keep breathing, just keep breathing_.

After an eternity, she almost cried tears of joy when they finally made it back to the training grounds. Instead, she all but fell to the ground, her back resting on the grass as she continued to struggle for breath. Glorfindel's form appeared over her, but it was really more of a fuzzy, golden outline. She almost whimpered when he pulled her to her feet.

"You must stand and walk, Keira. Your muscles will become tense if you do not."

She resisted the urge to glare at the elf as he led her slowly around the grounds, bringing her hands up to rest on her head. He handed her some water, which she took gratefully, and drank all of it in one go. Sweat dripped down her reddened face as her breathing started to slow. She closed her eyes and began breathing in and out through her nose, her shoulders rising with the effort.

"You did very well today, Keira," she heard Glorfindel say as he released her hands.

One of her eyes cracked open. "Are you serious?" She bent over to rest her hands on her knees, peering at her boots and willing her vision to stop swimming. "I'm pretty sure I just set a new record for the slowest run in all of Arda."

Glorfindel bent down and placed a finger under her chin, forcing her eyes to his. "But you did not give up," he told her, his blue eyes kind, "and that is what matters."

Her vision wavered when their eyes locked and she blinked rapidly in an effort to refocus it. She couldn't help but feel a small sliver of pride. "Thanks," she said, her voice breathy.

He dipped his head in a nod and released her chin. "Come, you should eat before your language lessons."

Straightening her form, she lifted the collar of her tunic to her face and wrinkled her nose. "And probably take a bath."

"Well, we were not going to say anything, Keira…" Elrohir said, pinching his nose and backing away. She swatted his arm playfully, Glorfindel chuckling behind her, and they slowly made their way back to the heart of the settlement.

* * *

" _Minë, atta, neldë, canta_ … _canta…_ "

"Five?" Lord Erestor's voice demanded from the front of the small classroom.

"Uh... _lempë_?" she said, breathing a sigh of relief when he nodded.

"Continue."

" _Enquë, osto, tolto, nertë._ "

"Correct. Now in Sindarin."

Keira groaned internally, but forced her tongue to remain behind her teeth.

At first, when she found out Lord Erestor was going to be her tutor, she was excited. That quickly morphed into shock at his icy demeanor, which promptly led to shameless terror and what she felt was a fully justifiable fear for her life. The elf was sharp and demanding, like the perfect mixture of Professor Snape and that old, crotchety elementary teacher that should've had the decency to retire decades ago, all rolled into one beautiful, snippy, elvish ball of angst.

She tried to make a joke with him once to see if that would lighten him up. Once.

He did not think she was funny.

The elf cleared his throat and looked at her expectantly, his glare making her squirm in her seat.

" _Min, tâd, nêl, canad, leben..._ " she snuck a glance down at her notes, which immediately earned her another sharp glare, "... _eneg, adog, toloth, neder, caer._ "

He let out a disgruntled sigh. "You managed to string along the correct sequence of numbers, Keira," the brooding elf said, "however, your pronunciation was rather poor. Again."

"Um, may I go to the bathroom first?" she asked, then hastily added, "please?" She almost shook her head at the absurdity of the situation. Here she was, a grown woman, asking for permission to use the bathroom. But at that point, she no longer cared. She just needed to get out of that classroom.

His long, drawn out sigh made his displeasure known. "Very well."

"And, um, where is it?"

His eyes shot through her like daggers. "Down the hallway, second door to the right. Do you require an escort, or will my simple directions suffice?"

"I'll manage," she said, quickly hopping from her seat before he could change his mind. She swore she heard him utter something like 'mortals' under his breath as she left the room, but again, she was just happy to be out of there.

 _Fucking hell_. She walked down the empty corridor, silently wondering what she had done to royally piss off the ancient elf. They had been at this for hours, and she was pretty sure her brain was slowly turning to mush. The two languages were starting to blur together into one big, elvish craphole.

She almost preferred the physical torture of running to this. No, she definitely did. At least Glorfindel was nice. Resisting the urge to linger in the bathroom, too afraid of the repercussions, she finished her business and quickly returned.

Her lesson continued well into the evening. Lord Erestor's frosty disposition holding throughout, and she had to bite her tongue at every snarky comment he had for her. The supply was seemingly endless. Finally, he announced they were through for the day, and deposited a stack of books on her desk.

Flipping through one, she noticed it was basically a child's story book, filled with pictures and their corresponding words.

"For your homework, you are to write two five-hundred word essays, one in both Sindarin and Quenya. They may be over whatever you wish. I expect them to be turned in in two days' time."

Her jaw dropped. " _Five hundred_ words?! I don't even know five hundred words!"

"Hence, the books," he drawled, unimpressed. "They are primarily used to teach children; however, at your current level, they shall suffice. We will incorporate history into the lessons once you have managed the basic vocabulary. This will serve to hasten your learning. Also, I have no doubt your knowledge of Middle Earth is most sorely lacking."

Her teeth ground together in frustration. Then, with a resolved sigh, she gathered her books quickly, pausing slightly before moving to leave. "Lord Erestor? Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Do you mean aside from the one you just asked?" She had to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes. "I suppose not."

She hesitated, then the questions spewed from her mouth. "Why am I learning Sindarin and Quenya at the same time? Wouldn't it make more sense if I were to learn Sindarin and _then_ Quenya? Or actually, Quenya and then Sindarin, because Sindarin is basically a simplified version of Quenya, right? I mean, it just doesn't make much sense to learn the two together."

The silence in the room was thick with her discomfort. Lord Erestor leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest and angled his chin toward the floor. His eyebrows were drawn together in one pissed-off dark line across his forehead, and finally, he spoke.

"You are to learn both languages concurrently because that is the wish of Lord Elrond; and, as you are his ward, you are to respect those wishes. Now go, and do not forget your assignment."

She quickly made a beeline for the door before he could burn a hole into her with his eyes.

Navigating her way through the corridors, she finally found her room and dumped her books on the bed, flipping them off with a steely glare before striding back into the hallway. She made several wrong turns, and, by the time she found the dining room, her mood was a fine blend of contemptuous indignation and marked self-pity.

The elves were already seated around the table and she plopped next to Glorfindel with a huff. Then, without a word, she grabbed the nearest wine bottle and filled her glass, downing it with several large gulps. She set her glass down neatly, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and brought her forehead to the table with a resounding 'thunk'.

"And how was your lesson, Keira?"

She shot a sideways glare at an amused Glorfindel. "You know, you could've warned me that Lord Voldemort was going to be my tutor. I would've made sure to destroy all the horcruxes beforehand."

"No, Keira. It is Lord Erestor. _Erestor_."

Her head lifted to glance across the table at Elladan. "No, he's a- you know what? Nevermind. My references are wasted on you people." She sighed heavily and rubbed her temples, trying to coax out her growing headache. "Tell, me, is it just me he hates? Or do all mortals offend his elvish sensibilities?"

"Oh, come now, Keira," Lord Elrond said from over the top of his glass. "Surely it was not all that bad."

The look she gave him showcased her disagreement.

Glorfindel apparently found humor in her suffering, but he brought a hand up to rub small, soothing circles on her back. She threw him a look of gratitude over her shoulder, too absorbed in her misery to be properly affected by his hand. Well, mostly.

"Do not worry yourself, Keira," he said. "Lord Erestor has high expectations of all his pupils; you should not take it personally. And we will no doubt help you, should you feel you are becoming overwhelmed."

"You will?" she asked, her voice small.

"Of course we will, Keira!" Elrohir said enthusiastically. "And, if the old grump becomes too much, there are certain ways," his eyebrows wiggled, "of handling it. Brother, do you remember when we-"

"Boys," Lord Elrond interjected from the head of the table, "I will not have you roping Keira into your boundless proclivity for mischief. She is young, and still remains innocent," a lengthy sigh punctuated his words, "and I simply do not have the energy for managing three troublesome delinquents."

Keira donned her most innocent expression while shooting the twins a discreet thumbs-up from behind her hand. Glorfindel had to bite back a smile. He watched her mood lift considerably as they ate, only remembering to remove his hand from her back when she turned to look at him, confusion and awkward shyness etched on her features.

* * *

 **A/N: So Keira's training begins. Confession: I know nothing about sword training or learning a new language. I had to do some research, and I have to say, I am thoroughly impressed with those of you who are bilingual/trilingual, etc. And, like, super impressed if you know how to use the sword. Damn.**

 **So those of you who have reviewed only recently received my reply, and that's because I am severely technologically inclined. And like, such a newb. I can't reply to guests, but I am so thankful for all of you! Emily (guest) said that this was one of the best Glorfindel portrayals she had ever seen, and I swear my little heart almost fluttered right out of my chest. Thank you, thank you, thank you!**

 **Also, someone PM'd me and asked what I thought Glorfindel looked like. I know he's supposedly shown in the movies, but I think the casting directors severely dropped the ball on that one. I picture him as a slightly buffer Emil Andersson. If you're reading this Emil, I think you're like, really pretty.**

 **Thank you all for your continued support. It really makes me so, so happy. Love you all!**

 **-dartwing**


	6. A Stitch in Time

**Chapter 6**

" _Forgetting isn't enough. You can paddle away from the memories and think they are gone. But they will keep floating back, again and again and again. They circle you, like sharks. Until, unless, something, someone? Can do more than just cover the wound." -Sara Zarr_

* * *

"She is inquisitive," Lord Erestor's voice spoke into the inky night, the small breeze lifting his words along the stone balcony and down into the valley below. He turned sharply, his frank strides carrying him to the chair. "Almost too inquisitive."

"And since when have you discouraged curiosity, Erestor?" Glorfindel said, a discernible amount pride coloring his words. "Surely that is not a crime which warrants disdain."

Erestor's return stare was hard, calculating. "Your affection for the girl has made you soft, Glorfindel," he said, his tone making no apology for his words. "We are simply not afforded with the luxury of coddling her. Need I remind you on the essence of time?"

The golden elf's eyes flashed, anger staining them an almost jarring shade of blue. "I am well aware of the importance of _time_ , Lord Erestor. Do not insult me with thinking I have _forgotten_."

"My friends," Elrond said, his voice breaking through the heavy tension that clung to the air, "you must not allow your emotions to cause discordance between you. You know this." He placed a hand on Glorfindel's shoulder, peering down at him with admonition. "Nor should you allow it to cloud your better judgment, old friend."

With Glorfindel's tight nod of acceptance, Elrond crossed the room, his footsteps heavy and burdened, causing his feet to scrape along the rug with their uncharacteristic weight. It was a stark contradiction to his nature, and he was not blind to the irony.

As if by their own accord, they landed him in front of the portrait which hung in the corner of the room. His fingertips ghosted over the frozen smile, the rise in the paint failing in its futile attempts of realism. The hand dropped, and, with a drawn sigh, he turned his back to it.

"Keira will no doubt be ready when the time comes," he said, joining the two elves in their seated position. "We must be steadfast in our efforts, as well as our hope. Time is still on our side."

Time. Glorfindel clenched his jaw and peered into his wine glass, the crimson liquid swirling around the outermost edges with condescending placidity. He drained it, quickly, but his grip remained firm around the stem. After all, what was time to an immortal being? The answer settled somewhere in the back of his mind, offering no ounce of vindication or consolation.

Everything. Time was everything.

* * *

"Oof!"

Keira's tailbone made contact with the hard earth for what felt like the hundredth time that day, her face screwing up in pain at the repeated abuse. She did her best to hide her discomfort as Glorfindel offered an outstretched hand.

"You must refrain from shifting your weight to your heels when I move to attack," he told her as she moved back into position. He stood in front of her and took hold of her shoulders, pushing back slightly so that her weight was on her heels. "Do you see how you then become unbalanced?" She nodded and he brought her back upright. "Good. Now, this time, I want you to focus on maintaining your balance, noticing where your weight is distributed as you move your feet."

She did her best to focus on her balance, her eyes trained on his circling form as she side-stepped in time. When his wooden sword swooped down to meet hers, she fell, again, and a frustrated sigh escaped her lips.

"I know, I know. I heard you."

"You heard my words, Keira," Glorfindel said as he pulled her to her feet, "but you are not _listening_. Again."

She bit back a groan as she moved back into position, her hands sweaty as she gripped the hilt of the sword. With no small amount of effort, she focused everything she had on her balance, and, with her feet remaining firmly on the ground, her eyes widened as the reverberating crack of her sword meeting his reached her ears.

"Yes, Keira, yes," he said, gripping her shoulder with his free hand. "That is much, much better. You must remember that your focus determines your movements, and your balance and footwork are as equally important as how you handle the blade. Come, again."

They continued their efforts, Glorfindel's encouragement breathing confidence into her exhausted form. She still made friends with the ground multiple times, and relief washed over her when he declared they were done for the day. Taking a long pull from her water, she glanced at the elf.

"Let me guess..." she said, her expression torn between a grimace and a smirk, "it's time to run."

He crossed his arms, and his return expression was most definitely a smirk. "You know, perhaps I should increase the distance you are to run. What say I...double it?"

"Nope, nope, I'm good," she said and tossed her water to him, which he caught with a deft hand. "I'm going!" She took off before he could change his mind, rolling her eyes and grinning when she heard his laughter behind her.

The warm August sun bathed her skin as her strides widened along the dirt path, the slight decline of the hill propelling her body forward. As the land beneath her evened out, she passed a group of elves, and, much like they had done since her arrival, they ignored her completely. She shrugged, determined to not let it bother her, and continued on. Eventually she returned, and the sweat rolling down her skin made her feel like a properly drowned rat. Only possibly less attractive.

"You know," she said, breathing heavily between large drinks of water, "you lied to me, Glorfindel."

His eyebrow arched. "Is that so, Keira?"

"Yes. You said this would get easier." She flopped to the ground with a heavy sigh. "Well, let me tell you, it hasn't."

Glorfindel humored her with a smile and crouched beside her, his long legs just brushing hers. "And _you_ are being dramatic."

"I would never."

"Mmhmm. Up," he said, pulling her from the ground. "You know you must not sit."

She stretched her tired limbs before joining him, feeling the relief in her tense muscles, and matched his easy strides as they left the training grounds.

"Tell me, Keira," he said with a sideway glance, "what are your plans for the day?"

"Plans?" She scrunched her nose and shrugged. "I don't know...I suppose the same thing I do every day. Another glorious evening with Erestor, Lord of Angst and Unbridled Animosity," she said with a dramatic sweep of her arm.

"Keira…"

"Sorry."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but she swore she saw the tiniest hint of amusement on his face.

"Well, I am afraid you will have to postpone your anticipated reunion with your tutor until tomorrow," he said, grinning as he watched for her reaction. "Lord Erestor has a meeting to attend, although he does send his regards, I'm sure. You have the afternoon to do what you wish."

She did not disappoint. Freezing on the spot, she gripped his arm, her eyes widened by disbelief. "Wait, what? Are you being serious with me right now? You better not be joking with me, Glorfindel. Please, please tell me you're not joking, because I may cry if you are."

He grinned and canted his face skyward. "Again with the dramatics." He looked back down at her hopeful face. "No, Keira, I am not joking. You truly have the day off."

His eyes widened when she flung her arms around his waist. "Though I should mention," he added, smiling down at the top of her head, "Lord Erestor also implied that you will have a sizeable amount of homework to make up for his absence."

"Ugh, I don't even care." She pulled back with a grin. "You have no idea how happy you've made me."

He chuckled. "Then I am glad, Keira."

They continued along, now with a small weight lifted from her shoulders. She grinned, feeling a much-welcomed sense of peace.

"So," he continued, "Since you no longer have your lesson to attend, perhaps you would wish to join me for a ride-"

"On Asfaloth?" she said, turning her head sharply.

"Yes Keira," he laughed, "on Asfaloth."

"Then yes, one hundred percent yes."

"You know, I am beginning to think you prefer the company of my horse over my own, Keira. Should I be offended?"

With a glance his way, Keira could see Glorfindel's eyes shining with mirth. "Well, _he_ doesn't make me run, Glorfindel. _You_ do."

"Ah, I see," he said, nodding seriously. He turned to face her when they reached the main structure. "So then, is it correct for me to presume that the way to your heart is through leisure and avoidance of all physical activity?"

She shot him a sly wink. "Nailed it."

Soft, adorable little crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. "Duly noted. I will meet you at the stables in one hour."

With a quick thumbs up, she practically skipped past him. Glorfindel watched her retreating form with a hidden smile, unmoving until she turned down the corridor, no longer in sight.

* * *

Keira sprawled out on her back as she squinted up at the tranquil, cornflower blue sky, watching as the fluffy clouds rolled by with minimal effort. Their effort matched with her mood, and the sun bent around them in languid fashion to land on the exposed parts of her skin. She sighed, fully content.

They had stopped for a rest on the outer edges of Rivendell. The hill they had claimed gave way to the vast terrain below, and the sweeping view was nothing short of breathtaking.

Keira glanced over to where Glorfindel was sitting. He had his back to a tree and his long legs were stretched out in front of him, with what looked like the soft makings of a smile on his face. His eyes were closed, and she'd say he looked as content as she felt. With his long hair covering his pointed ears, he could almost pass for human, if it weren't for the very distinct non-human beauty he possessed. She really thought she would have gotten used to it by now, but something told her she probably never would.

He must have felt her stare, because his eyes cracked and his smile widened when he caught her. She looked away quickly, only marginally embarrassed.

She sighed again and stretched out on the grass. Reaching for a grape, she tossed it high in the air, only to have it pelt her forehead on its way down. Glorfindel chuckled, so she threw him her best glare. With renewed sense of purpose, she tried again, frowning when it hit her nose.

"You are terrible at that, Keira."

Her glare returned. Glorfindel, however, was unfazed. "Oh yeah? Well, why don't you try- actually, nevermind. You'd just cheat."

"Oh? And how exactly would I cheat?"

She scoffed, grinning as she did so. "You're an _elf_ , Glorfindel. That means you're automatically good at everything. That's cheating."

"I do believe we have differing opinions on what constitutes as cheating, Keira."

"Yeah, well, tomato, to-mah-to."

He chuckled, apparently amused with another of her otherworldly expressions. She sat up and crossed her legs beneath her. A few fallen leaves littered the ground, so she picked one up, twirling it in her hands as she watched it with unseeing eyes.

After a moment of comfortable silence, his voice broke through her reverie, and his question was laced with something heavier than what their setting had supplied.

"How are you doing, Keira?"

"Hmm?" She glanced up quickly, fully aware that his tone had breached the easy banter she was used to. She shrugged. "I'm doing fine," she said, noncommittally. She dropped her gaze, and, with her eyes no longer on his, she missed the way his head tilted to one side and the scrutiny in his stare.

"Are you?"

A lengthy sigh escaped her as she tossed the leaf and leaned back on her hands. She looked at him properly, doing her best to maintain composure at the intensity of his gaze. "I mean, I guess so. I have the day free from Lord Erestor, so that's definitely a plus."

Her somewhat weak attempt to steer the conversation back to familiar territory failed when his blue eyes bored into hers. She swallowed, refusing to let her eyes drift, even though his stare had pretty much frozen her in place.

His next question was direct and succinct, and hit her squarely in the chest.

"Do you miss your world, Keira?"

She inhaled sharply. The weight of his question effectively shattered the once peaceful atmosphere, broke through the contentment they had maintained and left her with a distinct feeling of whiplash.

Without her permission, emotions that she had successfully locked away became threatening, and the steady, dull pain she had become accustomed to turned jagged. She took in another breath, wondering why he was asking a question he surely already knew the answer to. Surely it had been rhetorical.

The way he patiently awaited her answer, however, made her realize almost belatedly what he was doing. In a brief moment of panic, she wanted the ease of their relationship back, wanted the playful banter that didn't demand anything. This conversation was soaring well beyond her comfort zone, and she wanted nothing more than for it to end.

"Do we have to talk about this, Glorfindel?" she said, her tone somewhat harsher than she'd intended.

Again, he remained unfazed. "Yes, Keira. We do."

Her jaw clenched as she looked intently at the ground. She could almost feel the air around her becoming denser. It felt thicker, making her breathing become an almost labored process. She closed her eyes, hoping the tension would disappear when they opened.

It didn't work.

"Keira, look at me."

She reluctantly met his gaze. What she found there were equal parts solemnity and compassion burning a bright blue, and it left her feeling vulnerable, exposed.

Keira tried to look away, hating the way she suddenly felt small. A large hand stopped her from turning, forcing her gaze to remain level with his.

"Look at me," he repeated, softer this time. She complied.

"I am asking you to place your trust in me, Keira. Trust that I will neither betray your feelings nor judge you for your words." He tilted her face closer, so close that her eyes now darted back and forth between his. "Are you able to give me that?"

Keira blinked rapidly, trying her best to appear unaffected by his request. The way her throat suddenly felt dry, like it had been grazed with bits of sandpaper, belied her poor attempt. His eyes remain locked with hers, and the patient way he studied her rattled her even further.

If Keira were being completely honest with herself, which she knew she hadn't been for the last month, she could safely admit that the question leveled her with all the efficiency of being hit by a mack truck. It shook her out of her previous discomfort, only to swiftly grant her a new kind.

So, with a deep breath, she searched his face, trying to figure out the reason behind it.

Could she trust him? The question seemed ridiculous almost as soon as she passed through her mind. Glorfindel had never been anything but kind to her, never given her any reason to distrust him. Also, she was pretty sure elves were honest by nature. Most of them, anyway.

So why did she still feel so uncomfortable?

It wasn't until she had a light-bulb moment, a sudden flash of clarity that broke through her confusion.

Glorfindel's request was not a simple extension of friendship, but a potential shifting of their entire relationship. It would move them beyond that of teacher and student, past the simplicity of easy remarks, and into territory that demanded she give more.

And that scared her.

So now, she was forced to ask herself the real question: could she allow herself to be vulnerable?

Keira swallowed, hard. With his request, Glorfindel had effectively given her the power to dictate the course of their relationship. He was giving her a choice.

Keira felt the teetering of its weight sway back and forth, patiently waiting for her decision to see where it would land. She decided quickly before it had a chance to land the wrong on the wrong side. "Yes," she whispered.

Something flashed across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Thank you, Keira," he said, equally as quiet. He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Now, will you talk to me? Tell me, do you miss your world?"

Her voice remained a whisper. "Sometimes. Sometimes more than others."

He nodded, but kept his eyes on hers. "What do you miss about it?"

She swallowed. Images flashed through her mind, like someone had taken over a slide projector of her memories. They flew by rapidly, not stopping on any one for more than a few seconds. "I miss my dad, and my family and my friends."

He nodded again. "What else do you miss, Keira?"

"I miss all the little things," she said, silently praying that he wouldn't hear her. Of course, he was an elf, so he did.

"What kind of little things?"

She closed her eyes, and the slide projector slowed to an almost merciless, vindictive crawl. Her breathing turned shallow, and her heart rate spiked in her chest.

Each memory was now illuminated with irritating clarity, a highlight reel so vivid that she could almost hear the distant voices of the pseudo characters echoing in her brain. Her heart clenched painfully, and her breathing turned ragged.

She squeezed her eyes tighter and brought a hand to her mouth, a last-ditch attempt to stifle the sob that threatened to come out. It would have worked perfectly had she not needed to breathe. When she was forced to remove her hand, it left her, and she desperately, futilely wished for it to come back.

As soon as the strangled sound left her mouth, Glorfindel pulled her to his chest, setting her neatly on the ground between his legs. Her sobs increased in both number and force as she tried to remember the last time she had been held, by anyone. He said nothing while she cried, but held her firmly against him while she continued to heave heavy sobs into his tunic.

Some weird part of her brain, the part that had taken over when her emotions went haywire, concluded that if sunshine had a smell, then it would smell like Glorfindel. Her grip on his tunic tightened, and she breathed in heavily, trying to regain her composure.

When her crying eventually slowed, he pulled her back and wiped a few wayward tears from her face. Concern was his most evident feature, though there was something else, something that continued to elude her reflecting in his eyes.

"Do you feel better, Keira?"

All she could do was nod. She didn't trust her voice, not at that moment.

"Good," was all he said before he kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. She wasn't sure how long they stayed there, but in that time, Keira forgot to remember to feel awkward.

Eventually, the sun started to dip in the western expanse of the sky, and she could see its golden ripples edging the clouds through the crook of his arm. She pulled back, fixing him with her gaze. Keira tried to think of something to say that would express how she felt, something that would express her gratitude. But all that came out was a quiet, somewhat raspy, 'thank you'.

His eyes were soft as he pushed the hair back from her face. "You are welcome, Keira. Are you ready to return?"

She smiled and lifted herself from the ground, extending a hand down to him when she was upright. "Yes," then quickly added, "can I drive?"

"I believe the word you are looking for is 'steer', Keira," he said, taking her hand with a grin.

"So…"

He let out an exaggerated sigh, and his grin widened. "I suppose."

When she was situated on Asfaloth, Glorfindel behind her with his hands loosely around her waist, she looked back at him, almost hesitantly.

"May I ask you a question, Glorfindel?"

"Of course, Keira."

She was almost afraid to ask, still not quite sure if their relationship granted this curiosity. However, she supposed that it put them on equal ground, not only with the question, but in terms of what they each had lost. They had something in common, she realized, so she braved her fear, watching his reaction carefully as she did.

"Will you tell me about Gondolin one day? And Valinor?"

His face only held tenderness, and she almost breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, he didn't take offense, and she felt the grounds of their relationship solidify when he replied, "I will, Keira."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

 **A/N: Whew.**

 **I don't have much to say, other than I'm so thankful for all of your continued support. You guys mean the world to me! I love you all!**

* * *

 **Guest reviewers:**

 **Aster - Thank you for your kind words! I'm honored! And thoroughly impressed that you you trained in martial arts. I can't imagine the dedication that takes, and the running involved (applauds furiously)**

 **Nikki - I'm so glad you like it. Thank you for reading, and thank you for the well wishes on my job - that's so sweet of you! :)**

 **Guest - I'm glad she's not a MS so far :) and thank you for your concrit, I truly appreciate it!**

 **Emily - Again, so floored. Thank you!**

 **Different Guest who liked the twins - I like them too! Thank you so much for reading!**


	7. Blink

" _People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually, from a nonlinear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey... stuff." -Doctor Who_

* * *

A light dusting of faint, twinkling stars littered a pale blue sky as a cool wind swept through the valley. A few birds chirped, swooping lazily throughout the sky and in between the trees, signaling their readiness for the day to begin.

Further down the valley, next to the eastern bridge, Keira shivered and pulled her cloak tighter against her body. She blinked against the wind and up into the faces of Elladan and Elrohir, who were listening, patiently, with matching smiles of both tolerance and amusement, to her demands.

"Promise me you'll look after each other," she said, pointing a finger at each twin, respectively. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid, and you won't run off foolishly into danger. I know how you two are." She then placed her hand on her hip and sighed. "And that you'll come back as soon as you can."

Elladan smirked, and reached forward to ruffle her hair. She allowed it with a roll of her eyes. "Oh, Keira," he said, "do not worry your pretty little head. We will be just fine. After all, this is not our first - " he tilted his head, "what did you call it?"

She snorted. "Rodeo, it's not your first rodeo."

"Ah, yes. That was the one." Then he picked her up, squeezing her as he twirled her around and set her neatly on the ground.

Elrohir copied his brother, making Keira a little dizzy. "When we return, Keira," he said as he sat her down, "I expect you to be able to best Elladan at the sword." He smirked, and also ruffled her hair. "Though, that should not be too difficult."

Elladan punched his brother on the arm while she let out a quiet laugh. The two then hopped gracefully on their horses and turned towards the bridge.

"And remember, Keira," Elladan yelled from over his shoulder, "Now that you have a real sword, you must remember that the pointy end faces out - that is very important!"

She snorted into her hand. "I'll do my best to remember that, Elladan!" she yelled back. With a final wave of her hand, she watched them go, her eyes never leaving their retreating backs until they were only small specks in the distance.

* * *

Keira sighed and shook her head, struggling to find the right words.

"No, Glorfindel, the people aren't actually in the box. It's like...there are thousands of little pictures, which are kind of like paintings, only they're taken by a camera," she paused at his look of confusion, but kept going, "and when they're put side-by-side, it looks like they're moving."

After their training session, Keira and Glorfindel were walking slowly through the corridors, while Keira tried, albeit poorly, to explain the wonders of television.

Initially, when Glorfindel had finally caved and asked what a movie was, she smirked; now, however, she realized trying to explain somewhat complex technology to someone who'd never heard of electricity wasn't exactly easy.

In her attempt, she'd already ventured off topic no less than five times, including sideline tangents explaining that no, not everything that happens in a movie is real, and yes, binge-watching Netflix was a perfectly acceptable way to spend a weekend.

"And how exactly do these pictures get into the box?" Glorfindel asked, glancing down at her.

Keira shrugged. "Magic?" Glorfindel raised an eyebrow, and she snorted. "Kidding. I'm not really sure. It's a little over my head, to be honest. Something about pixels and transmitters and electron beams...way too technical for me to explain." She closed her eyes and sighed, wistfully. "Sometimes I really miss Google."

"Google?"

She grimaced. "Yeah, I think that's a topic for another discussion. I don't think I'm mentally prepared to bring you down that rabbit hole just yet."

Glorfindel chuckled. "So these movies then tell a story?"

"Yes, exactly!" Keira said with a broad smile. "And there are thousands upon thousands of them, about almost anything you can think of."

"I see," he said with a grin. "And did you have a favorite amongst these thousands upon thousands?"

"Well yes," she said, hesitating slightly. She looked up and pointed a finger at him in warning. "But you have to promise not to laugh if I tell you about it."

Glorfindel's grin widened, and he placed a hand over his heart. "You have my word, Keira."

Narrowing her eyes, she searched his face and continued.

"Okay, well it's about this teenager named Marty McFly who's friends with this crazy inventor named Doc. So, Doc builds a time machine out of a car, right?" She paused, then added, "a car is basically a metal contraption that gets you from one place to another really quickly, almost like a horse, but not really - actually, forget that, I'm getting off topic." She shook her head. "Anyway, so they have this time machine and they travel to the past- "

"They travel to the past?" Glorfindel said, pausing his steps.

"Yes, I know it's ridiculous," she said, grinning and rolling her eyes, "but you promised you wouldn't laugh! And like I said, movies can be about literally anything, real or not. So, as I was saying, they travel to the past and Marty has to-"

Keira's words and steps faltered abruptly when her eyes flicked up ahead. Further down the corridor, no more than ten feet away, stood Lord Elrond bent over in conversation with a short, almost childlike person with a curly mop of white hair. Her eyes widened dramatically and her breathing hitched. She turned sharply to Glorfindel.

"Oh my god," she whispered, pulling on Glorfindel's elbow and bringing him to a sudden halt. "Oh my god, is that a hobbit?! Glorfindel, look- no, what are you doing?! Don't be too obvious!"

"You are giving me conflicting orders, Keira," he said with a laugh as she held onto his arm. "Do you wish for me to look, or to only appear that I am looking?"

She ignored his question, too mesmerized by the small creature in front of her. Then, barely restraining a girlish squeal, she ran over to him, eyes comically wide and a wearing a huge smile.

His face was weather-worn and wrinkled, with soft lines curling around his forehead and in the outermost corners of his eyes. He wore a dark green waistcoat, complete with a burgundy jacket and trousers that stopped at his ankles, highlighting his bare, hairy feet. He carried a walking stick which was almost as tall as he was, and with his rosy cheeks and twinkling blue eyes, Keira had to restrain herself from flinging her arms around him in an all-out fangirl moment.

"Oh my god," she repeated in a hushed voice, "you're Bilbo Baggins! You're _the_ Bilbo Baggins!"

The hobbit, who had previously been mildly alarmed by the eccentric woman's sudden appearance, straightened his waistcoat and fixed her with a rather self-satisfied smile.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to meet you!" she said before he could respond. Then, thrusting out her hand, she said, "I'm Keira Darcy, and I cannot tell you what an honor it is. I know everything about you-" She glanced up when Lord Elrond cleared his throat and gave her a look, " - from Lord Elrond, of course. Will you please, please, tell me one of your stories?"

"Ho, ho!" the hobbit said jovially, shaking her hand. "You must be the young woman I've heard so much about!" He glanced up at Lord Elrond, who nodded in confirmation. Keira's smile, if possible, widened even further.

"Well, my dear," Bilbo said, "it sounds as though you have had quite the adventure yourself! They do tend to spring out at you, do they not? Generally during your morning tea, which can be quite a bother. Though," he said, reaching up to pat her cheek, "it is rather lucky you've found yourself here and not in Mirkwood. Nasty, nasty business, those spiders. Quite lucky, indeed. Tell me, my dear," he said, taking her by the arm and leading her down the hallway, "have you heard of the tale with the great stone-giants? Big as a mountain, they were-"

"Keira."

The beaming grin on her face faltered when she turned to find Lord Elrond giving her a reprimanding look.

"Have you forgotten about your lesson with Lord Erestor this afternoon?" he said, one eyebrow raised.

The grin fell completely. She looked down at the hobbit, back to Lord Elrond and back down to the hobbit again, the internal struggle evident on her face. Then, schooling her expression to one of doe-eyed innocence, she brought her eyes back to Elrond's.

"Lord Elrond, please," she whispered. "It's Bilbo Baggins, _the_ Bilbo Baggins." The hobbit behind her straightened importantly again. "It's just one class, surely there's no harm in missing just one class?"

Glorfindel coughed into his hand with what she thought was an attempt to cover a laugh, so she silenced him with a glare. Elrond shared a look with Glorfindel, both eyebrows now raised in amusement.

"Keira, my dear," he said, taking her hand in his, "I do believe you have forgotten that I have had centuries of dealing with those particular looks, and I am afraid they no longer work on me." Her shoulders slumped. "Now, you will attend your lesson, and I am sure that Mister Baggins will afford you with a tale once you have finished."

Keira tilted her head back and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Fine." Then, under her breath, she said, "how did that not work? That look always works."

Glorfindel didn't even try to cover his laugh this time, so she punched him lightly on the arm. "Hush," she said, pointing a finger while he feigned hurt, the smile never leaving his face. She turned dejectedly back to the hobbit.

"Do not trouble yourself, my dear," he said, hunting in his jacket pocket and pulling out a slender smoking pipe. He lit it, took a few quick puffs, and said, "education must come first, I've always said. Education, then adventure! Although, there is a great deal to be said on what can be learned on an adventure. Did you know," he said, taking her arm again and leading her away, "that the Misty Mountains are also referred to by their lesser known name, Hithaeglir, and they stretch well over - "

Lord Elrond cleared his throat at their retreating forms, and Bilbo turned around. "Right, right, yes, of course," he said. He looked up at Keira's sullen face. "There will be plenty of time to speak of adventures once your lesson is over. We can regale each other with our tales once you have finished, preferably over a nice spot of tea. Tell me, how long do these lessons normally last?"

Keira made a face, like she had just swallowed something particularly unpleasant. "Literally an eternity."

The hobbit chuckled, and patted her cheek again. "Not to worry, my dear. Come find me once you are through, I will be waiting."

Keira watched with sad eyes as the hobbit walked down the corridor, his walking stick clacking against the floor and a cloud of smoke billowing behind him. She tried her best not to pout, when Glorfindel, who had been watching her expression with only thinly-veiled amusement, started to laugh. She glared, swatted his arm again, and said, "shut _up_ , Glorfindel."

* * *

"Tell me, Miss Darcy," Lord Erestor said, his voice practically dripping with disappointment, "why exactly you felt the need to reference the 'small, brown, happy bird' no less than," he glanced down to scan her homework, "thirty four times?"

Keira grimaced, then shrugged helplessly. "Overall ambiance?"

His look was reproachful, and she shrunk further into her chair. "And you believe happy birds are fitting when discussing the formation of Idril's Secret Way?" he asked, his face set in hard, stern lines. She grimaced again, not knowing how to respond.

"While your essay in Sindarin was passable," she brightened a little, until he added, "your Quenya still leaves much to be desired. You will rewrite it, excluding anything related to avian creatures, including their overall disposition, coloring, and stature." She resisted a sigh, when he continued, "you will also write a second essay on Tuor's involvement with Voronwë, describing the Seven Gates of Gondolin, in detail, as well as their entrance into the city."

Keira balked. "But," she started, incredulous, "the chapter ends when Tuor got to Gondolin, and you haven't taught me that yet." She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "How am I supposed to write about something that I know nothing about?"

Lord Erestor fixed her with a look that made her feel like an incompetent child. "Do you not know of anyone who would be able to educate you on the matter, outside of myself? Is there no one in all of Imladris who is knowledgeable on the subject?"

Keira, now feeling properly foolish, held her tongue.

"You must learn to use your resources, Keira," Erestor continued with a hard look. Then, with no warning, he leaned down and placed his hands on either side of her desk, well within her personal space. She inched back, surprised by his sudden proximity.

"There may come a time when the answers are not laid out before your feet, Miss Darcy," he said, each word spoken with sharp precision, "and in those times you must rely not only on previous knowledge, but also on those who are more knowledgeable than yourself. Understand?"

She nodded quickly and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he backed off. "Good," he said, and turned to his desk to collect her papers. "I expect both essays to be turned in in two day's time." Quickly gathering the papers he returned, she stood to leave.

"And remember, Miss Darcy," she heard him say as she reached the doorway, "for every mention of a small, brown, bird, happy or otherwise, I will continue to increase the workload as I see fit."

She almost snorted. "No more birds," she said over her shoulder as she fled the room, "you got it!"

* * *

The evening sun had finally decided that it was best to retire, and the room where Keira sat was shrouded with a soft, hazy light cast by a few half-burned candles. Her legs were crossed beneath her, and she sat, perched on the edge of her seat, with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open slightly.

"And then what happened?"

"Well," Bilbo said, his animated face flickering in the candlelight, "stone-giants, caring little for the whitherto's of a group of sodden, weary dwarves and a young hobbit lass, continued their battle, while we stood, right on top of their heads!"

She gasped and brought a hand to her mouth. " _No_."

"Quite, quite," Bilbo said seriously. "So!" he continued, "we leapt from atop of their heads, feet flying and the air thick with dwarves, over to the side of the mountain. And you see, my dear, I almost didn't make it," he said, pausing dramatically. "So Thorin, rest his soul, charged down the cliff face and pulled me up to safety with one arm, only just in the nick of time."

"That was so brave of him," Keira said in awe. She heard a noise to her right, and turned to see Glorfindel leaning against the doorframe, his smile half-hidden by the shadows. She scooted over and patted the empty seat next to her.

"You're just in time, Glorfindel," she said, smiling at him as he sat down, "we're just about to get to Goblin Town." She glanced quickly at Bilbo, then added, "I mean, I think."

Glorfindel chuckled quietly at her near mistake, so she discreetly elbowed him in the ribs. He rolled his eyes and placed an arm behind her to rest against the back of the sofa. Turning her attention back to the hobbit, she settled in, eager to hear the rest of Bilbo's tale.

He continued on for a good portion of the night, never once losing enthusiasm, and Keira gasped and remarked in all the appropriate places. Eventually, however, she felt her eyelids become heavy and start to droop. Her yawns became more pronounced and frequent, and she ended up falling asleep nestled in the crook of Glorfindel's arm.

Glorfindel watched the sleeping woman with a soft smile, and Bilbo, who realized he had lost his audience, hopped up from his seat and patted the elf on the arm. "I trust you will see her to bed, young lass." Glorfindel glanced up and nodded, then returned his face to the woman in his arms.

The flickering light from the candles was starting to dim when Keira awoke, somewhat startled. She sat up quickly to create space between her and the elf she had unknowingly used as her personal pillow. "Sorry," she said, embarrassed. Then, adjusting her eyes to the dim room, she looked around, noticing the hobbit's disappearance. "Aw, where'd he go?" She searched the room again, and then pulled herself up to peer over the back of the couch.

Glorfindel chuckled. "Do you really believe him to be hiding behind the couch, Keira?"

She sighed and sat back down. Stretching her arms and yawning widely, she said, "you may not know this, Glorfindel, but hobbits are very, very sneaky creatures. They are experts when it comes to hiding." She then added, "sorry I fell asleep on you."

Through the muted light, she thought he looked amused.

"You snore."

Keira scoffed and wrapped her arms around her legs, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. She fixed him with an even stare. "I do not _snore_ , Glorfindel. Clearly your elf-ears are failing you in your old age. I suggest you get them checked."

"I assure you, Keira, my ears work perfectly fine. Although," he said, the smirk in his voice evident, "they may have suffered damage from the relentless noise you were making. I believe I am now traumatized."

She reached over to swat his arm, but he grabbed her wrist and spun her around so that her head was in his lap. She scowled up at him as he peered over her, his smile brightened by the candlelight.

"Ridiculous elf."

His smile became soft as he regarded her. He then replied, quietly, "silly woman."

She rolled her eyes and returned his smile, then glanced back up. "Hey, I have a question."

He laughed, stretching back on the couch as he released her hand. "Of course you do, Keira."

Her glare only made him laugh again, so she ignored it.

"Will you help me with my homework?" she asked, blinking up at him. "I have to write an essay over Tuor when he arrived in Gondolin, and another over Idril's Secret Way." She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, my Quenya still sucks, so I'm being punished with a bombardment of history."

He was silent for a moment before she added, "oh, and I'm not allowed to mention anything to do with birds."

He looked down at her, bemused. "And why would you include anything to do with birds when speaking of Tuor or Idril, Keira?"

She let out an exasperated sigh. "You know, for a race seemingly so in tune with nature and a love for creativity, you really have no appreciation for scene setting." Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Okay, fine," she said with another sigh, "I'm guessing it has something to do with abusing the word count with superfluous details, or something to that effect." She flicked her eyes down and then back to his. "Maybe."

He grinned. "Ah, so the truth comes out."

"Whatever," she said, sitting up and resting her hands on her knees. "So, will you help me?"

"Yes, Keira," he said with a laugh, "I will help you."

The pair worked well into the night, aided by the light of freshly renewed candles. Glorfindel, Keira found, was a much more patient teacher than Lord Erestor.

"So the sixth gate was made of gold with an image of Laurelin at the center, right?"

"Yes, Keira, that is correct," he said as she scribbled down some notes.

"Okay, then the seventh and final gate was the Gate of Steel, and that one was made by Maeglin." Keira did hesitate then, and sent him her best inconspicuous glance at the mention of the elf.

Glorfindel, seemingly unperturbed, replied, "Yes, the final gate was that of steel, and was meant to serve as a final defence against the enemy."

She nodded, relieved, and they continued to work until the candles were once again burned down. Glorfindel corrected her Quenya when needed, and Keira continued with her questions.

Then, with a wide yawn, she tossed her quill on the table, grateful to be done with half her homework. "Well, I am officially an expert on Tuor, every single gate, and I did it with not one mention of a single bird. Lord Erestor will be so pleased."

Glorfindel laughed as he helped her gather her homework, and they slowly made their way into the corridors, Keira yawning all the while. He held his arm out, which she took, glancing up at him with tired eyes.

"Glorfindel, may I ask you one more question?"

"From now on, Keira," he said, smiling down at her, "I want you to assume that the answer to that question is always 'yes'. You may ask me anything you wish, at any time."

She grinned down at her feet, and then brought her eyes back to his. "Did- did you ever assume that Maeglin wasn't who he said he was? I mean, did you ever suspect that he would betray Gondolin?"

Glorfindel let out a long sigh and peered down the hallway. She watched as his eyes became distant, no longer seeing as they walked.

"There were certain instances," he said, pausing on the word, "that his loyalty was brought into question. I, however, rather young and blinded by hope, as well as an almost fervent desire to only look for the best, failed to heed my own instincts and the warnings of those closest to me."

He paused, dropped his arm and took her hand in his. He looked down at her, his blue eyes locking with her own. "It is one of my greatest regrets, Keira," he said softly, "seeing those that I love perish, alongside my city."

"I'm so sorry, Glorfindel," she whispered, the words feeling wholly inadequate as soon as she said them.

He squeezed her hand. "Do not allow it to trouble you. We are here now, alive and well, and that is what truly matters."

She nodded and squeezed his hand in return. Then, she shivered as a cool draft swept through the corridors.

"You are cold," he said, removing his cloak and placing it around her shoulders.

"Just a little," she said, smiling at him in thanks. "You know, I always thought Rivendell would be a rather temperate place. I'm actually a little surprised that it's kind of chilly."

"Well," he said with a chuckle, "it is October. Even Rivendell is subject to cooler weather."

She froze as they reached her door, suddenly feeling like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head. Her eyebrows came together as she pulled on his arm. "Wait, what did you just say?"

He looked at her questioningly. "I said that Rivendell is subject to-"

"No, no, I meant about it being October." Keira looked to the ground, eyes shifting as she tried to mentally tried to piece together the days. Then, more to herself, she said, "That can't be right, it was just the beginning of September."

Glorfindel looked at her, concerned. "Is everything all right, Keira?"

Her head snapped back up. "I'm fine, Glorfindel." She shrugged off his cloak and said, "thanks for the cloak, and for helping me with my homework. I'll see you tomorrow?" He nodded and she quickly entered her room and shut the door.

Keira's breathing quickened as her back slid slowly against the door. She sat, cross-legged on the ground, eyes roaming around the darkness of her room as she tried to figure out how she'd completely lost track of time.

Was it really October already? It seemed to her that she'd done nothing more than blink, and the past few months were gone when she'd opened her eyes. She remained on the floor, wondering if time passed differently here. Maybe being around immortal creatures, those who had little concern for the passing of time, had somehow rubbed off on her. She could recall that time in Lothlórien had been similar for the Fellowship, passing by much more quickly than they'd believed.

But how could she have let herself become so complacent, so at ease that she'd stopped paying attention?

Swallowing back the anxiety that had risen in her throat, she hauled herself off the floor, stripped off her clothes, and climbed into bed. She stared up at the vaulted ceiling and silently willed her mind to stop racing. Squeezing her eyes shut, she rolled over and focused on her breathing, hoping that it would somehow calm her long enough so that she didn't have to force her eyes to stay shut.

Keira did not sleep that night.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello all my lovely readers :)**

 **I hope you are all having a wonderful week, and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you all for your continued support! Love you all!**

 **-dartwing**


	8. The Grey Wizard

" _It would be so nice if something made sense for a change." -Lewis Carroll_

* * *

"Sorry!"

Keira grimaced as she pulled herself up from the ground. She gingerly rubbed the spot on her outer thigh where she had fallen, knowing that it would undoubtedly leave yet another bruise. Frowning and dusting off her tights, she turned her gaze, not for the first time that day, towards the eastern bridge, just visible through a small gap in the trees. Her narrowed eyes scanned the area to search for any hint of movement in the distance.

Seeing none, she let out a long, slow sigh. Her eyes closed, and she cracked her neck, frowning when it did nothing to release the tension. She jumped slightly when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Glorfindel staring down at her in concern.

"Where is your head at, Keira?" he said, his blue eyes searching her face.

She shook her head quickly and turned her back to the bridge. "It's here, Glorfindel," she said, cracked her neck again, and rolled her shoulders back before moving into position.

"No, Keira, it is not. You are distracted." He stepped in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, forcing her to stand straight. He brought her chin up, and she held back another sigh as his all-too-knowing eyes met hers. "Will you not tell me what is on your mind?"

She hesitated, her eyes flicking back and forth between his. Her mouth opened slightly, but then shut just as quickly. Her jaw clenched slightly before she said, "I can't."

Glorfindel looked at her full on, a frown marring his features. She kept quiet, and silently willed him to understand. He must have, because he nodded, eyebrows drawn together, and released her chin.

Keira took in a large breath.

"I believe that is enough training for today," he said, squeezing her shoulder lightly. "We will resume tomorrow."

Keira's heart lurched and she dropped her gaze, trying to look anywhere but his face. She knew that wouldn't happen, that there would be no training tomorrow. Glorfindel would be off in search of Frodo, headed straight towards the Ringwraiths, beyond the safety of Rivendell.

The very thought made her stomach turn.

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded, trying to appear unaffected. When she returned her eyes to his, trying to school her expression, she knew that he saw right through her facade.

Glorfindel frowned at her bothered features and pulled her in close. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Everything will be all right, Keira," he said softly. "You must not let yourself be burdened by things beyond your control. You cannot stop what is meant to happen, and worrying only serves to hurt you."

Keira nodded into his chest, breathing deeply. Slowly, she felt herself begin to relax.

Suddenly, she felt him tense around her. Craning her neck to look at his face, which was trained towards the eastern bridge, she felt her blood run cold. Turning quickly, Keira's eyes zeroed in on the distant landscape, cursing her mortal eyesight when she saw nothing.

Keira looked back at Glorfindel and felt her breath hitch. She had thought that she'd become accustomed to his many looks, his intensity; this one, however, took her completely by surprise.

Gone were the lighthearted looks he often gifted her with, as well as the intensity that often accompanied his stare.

Instead, it was now replaced with a different kind of intensity, one that was calculating, assessing. She was now looking at Glorfindel, one of the mightiest of the Noldor elves. The shift from his calm, gentle presence to Noldor warrior was as instant as it was jarring. She turned back to look at the bridge, and gasped when she saw two figures closing in in the distance.

Glorfindel turned to her sharply when he heard her gasp. With his face set in a frown, he took her hand. "Come, Keira."

He led her quickly back to the House. Keira matched his long strides, trying to keep her heart rate in check as she followed along. Her deathgrip on his hand lessened slightly when he laced their fingers together, but her eyes remained fixed straight ahead as they reached Lord Elrond's study.

Lord Elrond opened the door following Glorfindel's hasty knock. Keira peeked around him to see two elves with faces set in grave, straight lines. Elrond opened the door wider to allow Glorfindel to enter, and when Keira tried to do the same, she was stopped short by Lord Elrond's hand on her shoulder.

"You must wait outside, Keira," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Keira, however, tried anyway. "But I already know what they're going to say, Lord Elrond," she whispered frantically, her eyes darting back to the two elves.

Lord Elrond's face became solemn as he regarded her. "Be that as it may, my dear, this meeting does not concern you. Wait here." He then patted her shoulder and began to close the door. Keira's wide, fearful eyes locked with Glorfindel's, and remained there until the door blocked him from sight.

Keira released a long, slow breath. She stood there for a moment, eyes still on the door, as a frown settled on her face.

Time spent outside the door ticked by slowly, as if it were crawling, inching along. Keira soon became restless. Her hands were wound in tight fists as she paced back and forth, and her fingernails soon caused indentions to form on her palms. She wrung her hands out quickly. Then, placing her back against the wall, she slid to the ground.

The silence in the corridors became deafening. She drummed her fingers against the floor in a half-hearted attempt to drown out the silence. At one point, the door opened and she quickly sat up, pulling herself off the ground in a rush. It was one of the messenger elves, however, and she frowned and returned to her seat. The elf sent her a curious glance, but ignored her when he returned with several elves following in his wake.

It wasn't until the door opened for a second time that she lifted her head from her knees. The elves filed out, and when Glorfindel stepped into the corridor, his blue eyes found hers immediately. Keira quickly scrambled up off the floor.

"You're going after them," she said, the words rushing out as she followed him through the corridors.

His hand sought hers and he squeezed it gently. He looked at her, his blue eyes still portraying that of a Noldor warrior, and said, "Yes, Keira. I must."

Even though she already knew his answer, she couldn't help the sudden, sharp intake of breath. She nodded quickly and forced her eyes forward, but her breathing started to become shallow. Seeing this, Glorfindel stopped, placed a hand on either side of her face and leaned down.

"Breathe slowly, Keira," he said, his eyes softening. She took in a few slow, deep breaths.

"Will you meet me at the bridge?" he asked, his thumb gliding over her cheek. She nodded, and he gave her a quick smile, dropped his hands and continued on through the corridors.

Her eyes followed him as he left. She felt frozen, her anxiety mounting the further he went. She shook her head and turned quickly to make her way outside.

Once at the bridge, Keira resumed her pacing, drawing deep, fitful lines in the dirt. When she heard the sound of footsteps, she wheeled around to see Glorfindel leading Asfaloth towards her.

Keira quickly closed the distance between them. For a few long moments, neither said a word. Glorfindel studied her, frowning at her worried features. He bent down, closer to her face. "I do not fear them, Keira," he said reassuringly, his voice low in her ear.

"I know you don't," she whispered. Keira kept her eyes on his, her breath hitching as everything else faded around her. She swallowed and glanced at the ground before returning her eyes to his. "That doesn't mean I can't be afraid for you."

Glorfindel began to smile and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And what did I tell you about worrying, silly woman?"

She huffed as he chuckled. "Ridiculous elf," she whispered.

Glorfindel then knelt in front of her, his face turning serious as he took her face in his hands. She breathed in as his blue eyes locked with hers, their faces mere inches apart, and tried her best to remember how to breath.

"I need you to promise me something, Keira," he said insistently. "Promise me that you will not leave the safety of Rivendell, that you will not stray anywhere near its borders. You _must_ give me your word."

"I promise, Glorfindel," she whispered. "You have my word."

He nodded, and kissed her forehead before gracefully mounting Asfaloth.

"And remember," he said, "you must keep up your training in my absence." He raised an eyebrow and grinned. "And that includes running, Keira. I will know if you do not."

She rolled her eyes. "All right, all right, feel free to leave now." She gave him a mock glare, but felt the familiar sting behind her eyes. "Ridiculous elf," she whispered once more.

He chuckled and held out his hand. She took it, and his blue eyes softened again as he said, "I will be back before you have time to miss me."

"I'll hold you to that," she said, squinting her eyes against the sun. He gave her hand a squeeze before turning to leave, and sent her one last smile over his shoulder as he went across the bridge.

Keira's stood there for a while. Her mouth felt too dry and there was a discernible lump in her throat, but she forced it down. Eventually, she looked up, watching as the clouds shifted their hues into oranges and pinks and golds, a stark juxtaposition to her increasingly blue-tinged mood. She sighed. With heavy feet, she dropped her head and forced herself from the spot.

* * *

The time, which previously seemed to have sped by with little to no concern, now slowed to a maddening crawl. In an effort to keep herself busy and her mind occupied, Keira went through her usual routine.

She trained during the mornings (not daring to forego her running) and kept up with her Sindarin and Quenya lessons in the afternoon, grateful for the concentration they required. Every evening, she met Bilbo for tea, and even Arwen joined her on occasion. She was thankful for the reprieve, the times when her mind was too busy to think.

The nights, however, when she was left alone with nothing to distract her, were undoubtedly the worst.

During these times, Keira's mind decided to turn against her and play every dark, twisted scenario that it could conjure.

Keira rolled over in bed while the sheets tangled around her legs. She kicked them off fitfully, feeling claustrophobic. She stretched out on her bed with an exhausted sigh. Tiny streams of moonlight filtered through her room, the woven beams of her archway casting intricate patterns on her pillow, and she traced them absentmindedly with her finger.

Her thoughts then drifted to Glorfindel. Her breath caught and the movements of her hand faltered. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. If she concentrated, she could see his face as it should be: joyous, eyes happy and full of mirth, and, of course, strikingly beautiful.

Keira frowned in the darkness.

It was then, in the dark, resonating silence of the night, that she wondered if her arrival to Middle-earth would change everything. It was what kept her up at night and stole her sleep. If everything was going by the book, then she had no reason to worry. Glorfindel would return, hobbits and Aragorn in tow, and only Frodo worse for wear.

But what if everything had changed? What if she had unknowingly screwed everything up? The thought made knots form in her stomach and her anxiety creep along her spine.

With each passing night, Keira slept less and less.

* * *

It was rather early in the afternoon, the sun only just reaching its highest peak in the sky, when Keira found herself walking absentmindedly along a path, staring at her feet as they crunched a few stray, fallen leaves. Rounding a corner, she felt her feet falter when a carrying voice met her ears.

"Saruman's treachery gave reason for my delay," the grave voice said. Keira eyes widened. She shifted closer to the stone wall as quietly as she could, holding herself up against the structure to muffle her movements. "The one we once held as ally has now turned from reason, and I am afraid, Lord Elrond, his morality has turned with it; it has abandoned him, stripped away in the depths of his madness."

Keira gasped and quickly brought a hand to her mouth. Squeezing her eyes shut, she cursed herself and silently prayed that she hadn't been heard.

"Keira," she heard Lord Elrond's voice beckon, and she muttered a quiet curse under her breath. Slowly, she stepped around the wall, innocently peeking her head into the room.

Although Keira knew it had been Gandalf speaking, that still didn't prepare her for seeing the wizard for the first time, in person, right in front of her. She froze on the spot.

There he stood, in all his grey, wizarding glory, with his pointed hat, bushy eyebrows, and bright, twinkling eyes. Despite the nature of the previous conversation, he looked at her with a smile, as if he were looking at an old acquaintance and not a complete, starry-eyed stranger. Keira continued her staring, which was now teetering towards the edge of rudeness.

"Ah, Miss Darcy, we meet at last," the wizard said, eyes twinkling.

Keira continued to gape. This went on, longer than it should have, and the wizard eventually glanced at Elrond. "Tell me, my friend," he said, "does she speak?"

That seemed to do the trick.

"Gandalf," Keira whispered excitedly, moving in closer. "You're the Grey Wizard! Former Maia turned Istari, and member of the White Council! And you're _here_!"

Lord Elrond raised a brow at her rambling, apparently amused. "I probably should have mentioned," he said, turning to Gandalf, "that she has a tendency to spout off people's histories, seemingly forgetting that they themselves have already lived them."

Keira's face turned sheepish.

Gandalf gave a throaty chuckle. "It is no trouble, no trouble at all, my dear," he said, taking her hand. Remembering her manners, she snapped her mouth shut as he led her to the chair. "When you become as old as I am," he continued, "the mind requires a good refresher from time to time; it keeps it sharp, gives the old cobwebs a good dusting, if you will."

The wizard sat across from her and lit up his pipe. The smoke billowed around his face, momentarily clouding him from view. When it cleared, Keira found that he was watching her intently. She shifted in her chair.

"Keira Darcy," he said, pausing on her name. "I have been most eager for your arrival. I wonder," he said, puffing on his pipe, "if you would be so kind as to grant an old wizard with your tale? For I am sure it is one that is most fascinating."

Keira shifted again. "I mean, I'm not really sure you would consider it fascinating…"

"Oh?" said the wizard, eyebrows raised. "You, who have traversed through the void, weaved yourself throughout time and space, do not consider it to be fascinating?" He chuckled. "Then I find I am more curious to know where your basis for comparison lies." He tapped his pipe and blew out the ash, quickly refreshing it with new leaf. "Not fascinating, indeed."

" _Okay_ , I admit that part is a bit interesting," she said. "But it's not like I had anything to do with that." Gandalf raised a bushy eyebrow. "I was actually referring to my life _before_ I traversed voids and space and time and whatnot."

"I see," he said, drawing on his pipe again. "So then illuminate me, Keira Darcy, on your less-than fascinating life, prior to your precipitous venture to Middle-earth."

"Um, well I'm not really sure where to start."

"I find that it is always best to start at the beginning and work your way to the end, as most tales go."

She repressed a snort at the snarky wizard. "Okay...well, I was a pretty average kid, to be honest. I was raised by my dad, and I went to school, then to college, and then I was working on my Master's." She shrugged and lifted her arms. "And now, here I am."

The old wizard nodded. "College," he said, re-lighting his pipe when it had gone out. "I am assuming that is a dwelling which allows for a furthering of education?" She nodded. "Tell me, then, what did you study at this college?"

"Philosophy," Keira replied with a slight grimace. She was well accustomed to the looks she generally received upon that admission.

The wizard, however, appeared thoughtful. "Philosophy? The study of thought and the nature of the Universe?" He twisted his long, grey beard in his hands and continued to study her. "Quite an interesting choice, Miss Darcy. And what does one do in your world with an education in Philosophy?"

"Generally they work at Starbucks and cry over the amount of debt they've accumulated," Keira deadpanned. Gandalf just stared at her, so she continued. "I managed a small bookshop while I was working on my Master's, and to be honest, I didn't really have a plan for when I finished." She paused, and gave a half-hearted shrug. "I was kind of just hoping for the best, really."

"Ah," Gandalf said, the twinkle in his eyes returning. "Well it seems as though a plan for your future was already set in motion, was it not?"

Keira blinked at him.

"Indeed it was. So then, I am to assume you are fond of literature, having managed a bookshop?"

"I am," she admitted.

"And the books which tell of our history, you were drawn to these as well?"

"Well, I mean, yes," she said, grinning. "They _were_ one of the most popular series of fantasy books in the world. I think pretty much everyone who loves fantasy is fond of them."

Gandalf leaned in closer. "I find that I am curious to know why _you_ were drawn to them, my dear."

She paused. "I mean, aside from the fact Tolkien had created nothing short of a literary masterpiece...I don't know," she said, "I guess I just fell in love with the world."

Gandalf nodded, but clearly meant for her to elaborate.

Keira breathed out a sigh, and her eyes drifted to the balcony. She watched as the sunlight broke through the trees, her mind drifting to when she was younger, reading underneath her covers with the aid of a flashlight.

"I guess...I guess I fell in love the idea that there was a world full of magic, one where there wasn't any doubt that it existed. In my world," she said, glancing at Gandalf, "magic isn't real. And, I don't know," she shrugged, "for some reason that always made me a little sad. It felt flat, like there was something missing. And then of course I also fell in love with the characters, both you two and Frodo, and Bilbo and Arwen and-"

"And Glorfindel?" Gandalf asked.

Keira felt a sharp stab in her heart at the mention of the golden elf, her worry returning. "Yes, and Glorfindel."

Gandalf nodded. "I must admit, I am rather curious, Keira," he said, leaning in even further, "did you ever believe this world to exist outside of these books and your imagination?"

She frowned. "Well," she said slowly, "I mean, I guess I always wished that it would be real. But I'm sure every person who reads fantasy wishes for the same, don't they?"

Gandalf puffed on his pipe. "I suppose it is the human condition to wish for that which is seemingly unattainable. And yet," he said with a smile, "that is also the quality which I find most admirable, most endearing in the race of men. It is a steadfast hope, unwavering in the face of doubt." Gandalf inclined his head. "Whether or not you believed in this world, Keira Darcy," he said, "you may rest assured that this world has always believed in you. It has been waiting, every patiently, for your arrival."

Keira sat, unsure what to say, and Gandalf smiled.

"Ah, you must forgive the ramblings of an old man," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Although, a word to the wise, if I may," he said with narrowed eyes. "It does no good to spend your time worrying over events which may or may not occur; the future will come, as it must, and we will be there to meet it when it arrives. It does not yet exist, save for only in your mind." He gave her a knowing look. "And I have found the mind has a rather incessant tendency to twist thoughts to its own liking, would you not agree?" Her eyes widened, and he nodded. "You must fix your eyes and heart firmly in the present," he continued. "Do so, and you may find your burdens lighten of their own accord."

Keira nodded, and said quietly, "I'll try that."

"Be sure that you do," Gandalf replied, pointing a long, slender finger at her. "Now, you must excuse myself and Lord Elrond; there are a few matters that require discussion and must be brought to light. I am sure we will speak again soon, Miss Darcy."

Keira nodded and rose from her chair. "It was nice to meet you, Gandalf," she said. Just as she rounded the corner leading outside, she stuck her head back in.

"Gandalf? May I ask you a question?"

"You may, Miss Darcy."

She hesitated. "Did you tell Saruman about me?"

Gandalf peered at her for a moment, tapping the end of his pipe against his chin. "No, Keira. I did not."

Keira cocked her head. "Why not? I mean, I'm glad you didn't," she said quickly, "but why wouldn't you? You only just found out he had betrayed the Council, so why would you keep that from him?"

She glanced at Lord Elrond as he chuckled. "What did I tell you, old friend?" he said as he patted Gandalf's shoulder.

Keira's eyes narrowed as she watched the exchange.

Gandalf sighed, and turned to her. "Let us save that discussion for another time, Keira. All will be revealed when the time is right."

Keira held her hands up in defeat and rounded the corner. Plodding along the path, she kicked a stray stone beneath her feet. "Damn wizards and elves with their cryptic remarks," she muttered to herself. She glanced up at the sky. "Why can I never get a straight answer? Is that really so hard? Ugh."

* * *

In the twinkling hours on the morning of October the twentieth, Keira found herself lying in bed, counting the leaves on the branches that curled around her ceiling. The night had long since left her, and the hour had passed when sleep was still an option. She huffed when she lost count at seventy-eight, and debated whether to start over again. Instead, with a quick decision, she kicked off her blankets, dressed quickly, and set out through the corridors.

The darkness of the night cloaked Keira from head to foot as she stepped outside. She breathed in deeply, taking in the crisp, dewy scent of the autumn air. She walked aimlessly for a while, only stopping to rest on a hill. She spread out her cloak and laid on her back to peer up at the stars.

The few that still remained, the stubborn ones that persisted against the rising sun, winked down at her with their soft, twinkling light. The night had grown silent, watchful, as if it were holding its breath in anticipation. She continued to peer up at the sky, feeling rather small as the large expanse blanketed her.

Keira eventually closed her eyes, exhaustion finally taking hold, and when she did, her mind drifted to sunflowers, sunshine, and a certain golden-haired elf.

* * *

A slight, high-pitched warbling noise caused Keira to frown as she rolled over in her bed. She reached out blindly, searching for a pillow to cover her ears, and her eyes snapped open when she felt blades of grass beneath her fingers. She sat up quickly, momentarily dazed as she took in her surroundings.

Her head tilted back and she squinted up at the sun, which was now directly over her head. She scrambled up off the ground, shaking off her cloak and throwing it quickly over her shoulders as she ran towards the tallest hill she could find. Keira's eyes narrowed as she searched the area.

Then, with no warning whatsoever, she felt it.

It was hard to describe what she had sensed, but the feeling permeated her, filled her and sent a sweeping wind that tossed her hair behind her shoulders and a chill directly to her spine.

The wind continued to blow around her, pushing her hair into her face and she wiped it away with frustrated, hurried motions. Then, as quickly as it came, it left, and the sudden stillness of the air felt heavy on her shoulders. Keira peered into the distance, watching, waiting for any sign of movement.

Keira's eyes widened as a single movement caught in her peripheral vision. It was a pale speck at first, growing more solidly white as Asfaloth galloped forward. On his back, there sat a small, slumped figure, and she could just make out the tell-tale head of curly brown hair. Her breathing stopped, the air now caught in her throat, and her pulse sped to an alarming speed.

Frodo Baggins had come to Rivendell.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello again, my lovely, wonderful readers! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter...let me know what you think :)**

 **Also! One of my reviewers, Aster (hi!) made a good point in his latest review. Christopher Tolkien is releasing his edited version of one of the Lost Tales, _The Fall of Gondolin,_ and it's release date is August 30th. I don't know about y'all, but I am SUPER excited about it. Anywho, just a heads up for those who didn't know. You know ya girl's already got it on pre-order ;)**

 **As always, thank you all for your support...you have no idea how much it means to this amateur writer. You all give me the warm fuzzies. I love you all!**

 **-dartwing**


	9. The Arrival

_Bran thought about it. "Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?"_

" _That is the only time a man can be brave," his father told him. -George R. R. Martin_

* * *

The sky above her head was not a pretty one.

It was bleak and decidedly grey, and as she stretched her legs beneath her chair and scanned the skies, it reminded Keira of hundred-year-old cement: dreary, depressing, and in desperate need of a good resurrection. By mid-afternoon, the sky had been covered with clouds and the sun was desperately trying to squint through the cracks.

Resting her head on one hand and drumming a staccato rhythm with the other, her teacher's voice became a dim droning in the background. Every now and then she would hum an agreement to whatever her teacher said; eventually, however, her eyes shifted back to treeline just beyond the settlement's edge.

The echoes of Gandalf's words and his well-intended advice were long forgotten in the confines of her classroom.

Yes, Frodo Baggins had arrived in Rivendell. According to Lord Erestor, however, the monumental arrival of the Hobbit was not a good enough reason to skip their lesson. No matter how much she argued, no matter that her argument quickly turned to desperation.

So, here she sat, worry creasing her brow as thoughts of an injured Frodo and a still-absent Glorfindel plagued her mind.

"And so," Lord Erestor said, resuming his usual pacing at the classroom's front, "Tuor persuaded the guards to allow him safe passage into the city, granting him direct audience before the king. How do you suppose he managed to accomplish such a feat?"

A brief silence stretched on before Keira tore her eyes away. Lord Erestor watched her expectantly, and the deep, irritated crease between his brows told her the silence had stretched on too long. She shrugged. "Perhaps he was exceedingly charismatic?"

Keira witnessed his dwindling patience disappear. Glaring, he rounded on her like a vulture and she did her best to sink into the floor.

"Clever remarks are the bane of fools," he said through narrowed eyes. "And it would do you well to remember that, Miss Darcy. Wise men think before they speak." He spun on his heels, and she could feel the heat from his anger boring into her with all the power of the sun. "Try again."

Keira grimaced, racking her brain for an answer. "Well," she said slowly, "Ecthelion recognized his armor, right?"

Lord Erestor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "In Sindarin, if you please."

Resisting rolling her eyes, she repeated herself and Lord Erestor nodded, waving his hand for her to continue. "So," she said, "Ecthelion realized his armor was made by Ulmo. That convinced him he was sent by the Valar, I suppose. Otherwise, they would have thought he was a spy or a servant of Morgoth. Or something equally bad, I guess."

Lord Erestor nodded. "Precisely. Had Tuor been unable to convince Ecthelion, his fate would have no doubt differed greatly."

Keira frowned. "But he didn't have to convince them, did he? He didn't really do anything except wear the armor given to him by Ulmo. If he hadn't been wearing it, that could have changed everything." She looked up to find her teacher eyeing her sharply. "How could he have convinced Ecthelion and the guards without it?"

"Tuor would have found it necessary to rely on intelligence, his powers of persuasion," he replied. "Facts leave little room for doubt, save from the deliberately ignorant. Without facts to rely on, people become irrational, afraid. Tell a person what you know and they will often forgive what you do not."

Another long silence. Then, shrugging, Keira said, "I guess it doesn't matter, really. It's all hypothetical. We're talking about something that never happened."

"Indeed," he replied, an unassuming glint to his eyes. ""Hypothetical or not," he continued, "it is the basis of your next assignment. You are to hypothesize, in detail, how Tuor would have convinced the Gondolithrim of his credibility. And entirely in Quenya, if you please. Your syntax is utterly atrocious."

Frowning, Keira stood and crossed the room. "Why would I write about a historical event based on a hypothetical situation? It seems a little...pointless."

"The _point_ is for you to use that thing in your head which you call a brain," he said haughtily. "To think analytically. Put yourself in a situation which requires an intelligent response, not simply witty remarks." She took the parchment with a wrinkled frown, avoiding her teacher's eyes. "Now go," he said, waving his hand toward the door. "I expect seven pages at the least."

Keira was grateful to leave her grumpy teacher and stepped into the hallway. She walked slowly through the empty corridors, the echo of her footsteps breaking the heavy silence. The sound was jarring, out of place in the normally buzzing hallway, and her grateful grin slowly faded. Shaking off her unease, she found the quickest exit and stepped outside, blinking up at the cloud-covered sky.

The view from the balcony stretched out in every direction, and as Keira walked to the edge to lean on the railing, she tilted her head back to look back up at the sky. A frown marred her features at the rain clouds, scattered and dotted against the pale grey sky. Sighing, her eyes dropped to the spot where Frodo and Asfaloth had emerged some time before.

Her mind turned cruel again and began to replay everything that could possibly go wrong. Why wasn't Glorfindel back yet? It had been hours, at least. Had something changed? Had she unintentionally done this?

She rested her head against the pillar and watched the forest's edge, waiting for a sign of movement. "Where are you?" she whispered, frowning. The sky was hazy and bleak, but even her mortal eyes could see there was nothing. No sign of life, no hint of movement beyond the sway of the trees.

Her eyes were beginning to strain when a sound, one which sent a jolt straight to her heart, broke through her reverie. Inhaling sharply, she turned to face the doorway, and a surge of hope swelled in her chest.

Voices.

Keira was frozen for a second, but then dashed inside, the hope now blossoming inside her.

The once desolate corridor was now alive with energy. She could hear the voices, but they were too far and too muddled to make out. Daringly hopeful, she ran to a set of large double doors leading to a room she swore she'd never noticed before, and the hazy light illuminated her face as she peeked through the crack.

Like most rooms in Rivendell, this one was open to the elements. Filtered light illuminated the sliver of her face poking through, and Keira saw it resembled a meeting room. It was large, dimly lit, with rows of chairs on either side.

Elves crowded the room, but her eyes were immediately drawn to the center. There, standing with all the purpose and easy command of a Noldor warrior, was Glorfindel.

Adrenaline flooded her body and she suddenly turned, slipping behind the door with her heartbeat springing into overdrive.

He was alive. Glorfindel was _alive_.

Relief flooded through Keira like a torrential downpour. Everything, the sleepless nights, the endless worry; all lay forgotten as she heard his familiar voice ring. Ignoring the odd bundle of nerves in her chest, she pushed off the wall and looked through the crack.

Her memory simply hadn't done him justice. He was beautiful and commanding and strong, and he held the room's attention with the greatest of ease. His words were lost to her, but the elves in the room seemed to follow every word.

A small, secret smile stole her features as her hand moved to rest on the door, but it quickly morphed into a grimace when, to her mortification, it creaked open. Loudly.

Keira froze. Every elf turned as she stood motionless in the doorway. She was certain her heart actually stopped. Her eyes grew wide. Her face turned an alarming shade of crimson. Then, when her pulse took off and she remembered she could move, she made the briefest of eye contact with Glorfindel before turning to hide behind the door.

"Shit," she whispered, praying they would just...ignore her, and she could just go crawl under the closest, largest rock she could find.

Apparently, the gods were either indifferent or deaf to her pleas, because she heard Glorfindel issue what must have been orders, followed by the sound of feet heading toward the door.

Keira pressed herself against the wall as the door flung open. She studiously kept her eyes on the floor to avoid the elves passing by. Then, a familiar pair of boots entered her line of vision. Slowly, she followed them up; past the dark green tights she last saw him wear, up to his cloak, and she was met with his long, trademark golden hair.

Until finally, their eyes met, and all rational, coherent thought left.

Keira was now struggling to breathe properly. The heat from his encroaching proximity was doing nothing to calm her nerves; and then she remembered, just a moment too late, what that stare did to her.

Small, large; strong, yet weak. Entirely invincible and utterly defenseless.

Each emotion collided with the other and left her completely vulnerable, and she was certain he could read her like a book. From up close, she could see the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes, the golden curl of his lashes, and the curve of his lips as his smile turned soft. Swallowing hard, she tried focusing on the wall supporting her; but the hallways began to blur and lose their shape.

And eventually, all that was left was him.

It really wasn't fair, she thought. How long had he been gone, exactly? Just over a week, though Keira couldn't understand _how_ she could have forgotten: his incomprehensible stare, his commanding presence, the indescribable way he held her attention without even trying. No, time had not been gracious, and now she was left trying to form a rational thought.

No, she decided. It really, _really_ wasn't fair.

Her eyes flicked between his until she finally had the sense to look away. Slowly, her world regained focus. Clearing her throat and blinking against the curious sting in her eyes, she gathered all her courage and looked back up.

"You're back," she whispered.

Glorfindel smiled, then reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears. "I am."

Trying to appear impervious to his hand on her cheek, Keira crossed her arms and attempted to lighten the tension. "Well," she said, "it certainly took you long enough."

But then, for a reason she couldn't comprehend, his smile changed and his bright blue eyes began to twinkle in the low light of the corridor. As though he found her comment amusing, and she felt woefully out of the loop. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "My sincerest apologies for making you wait, Keira. Will you ever forgive me?"

Keira opened her mouth to reply, to say that she was joking, that there was nothing to forgive, when a voice further down the hallway cut her off.

"Ah, I see we are all here."

Keira peeked around Glorfindel's shoulder to see Gandalf grinning at them both, the perpetual twinkle shining. Keira wondered how much the wizard had overheard and felt incredibly embarrassed at her lack of composure. After all, it was only Glorfindel, and she was an adult woman, fully capable of acting like one.

So, naturally, she took his arrival as her chance to get the hell out.

"Right, Gandalf," she said, stepping around Glorfindel with a strained smile. "I'll, uh, I'll let you two catch up. I'm sure you have loads to talk about. Glorfindel, so glad you're back. Catch up later?"

Without waiting for a reply, Keira took off down the corridor, unaware of the amused smiles of both Glorfindel and Gandalf, and went straight to her room. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned her forehead against it, knocking it a few times for good measure. "What the hell, Darcy?" she said, sliding down to the floor with an exasperated sigh.

Awkwardness aside, Keira couldn't help but smile. Glorfindel was alive. That meant so far, at least, she hadn't screwed anything up. Relief warmed her and the tense knots in her shoulders began to loosen as she rested against the doorframe.

After sitting for a while, a thought struck her. "Oh my god," she whispered. "Merry and Pippin. Merry and Pippin are here. And Aragorn!" She scrambled off the floor, swinging the door open as she yelled down the corridor. "Glorfindel, wait!"

* * *

"Do you see the white-haired one? Next to the shorter one with red hair? That's Glóin. He was part of Thorin's company in 2941, _and_ he fought in the Battle of Azanulbizar in 2799. Not to mention," she said, raising a finger matter-of-factly, "his noteworthy skill with a tinderbox."

Keira, unaware of Glorfindel's growing smile, continued.

"And the one on the end there? The blonde elf? That's Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood. His father is Thranduil, and he was the one with the dungeons, the one I was telling you about." She frowned, raising on tiptoes to get a better look. "I wonder if Glóin realizes he's sitting close to the guy's son who imprisoned him. Probably. Don't you think, Glorfin– wait, why are you laughing?"

No longer able to contain himself, Glorfindel held his hands up in surrender. "My apologies, Keira. Please, do continue."

Keira glared, but it was half-hearted at best. It was the evening of Frodo's recovery feast, and the once fictional characters from her childhood gathered in the communal dining hall, looking every bit what she'd imagined.

The Fellowship's arrival came swiftly, and Keira was again left to wonder about the passage of time. The past week had gone on and on, the seconds stretching themselves into days until she was certain time was playing tricks on her. Then, everything began happening all at once. First Frodo, followed by the rest of the Fellowship. Looking around the room with wide eyes, Keira tried to pinpoint the unknown emotion currently swimming through her veins.

"So you've met Merry and Pippin," she said, ignoring the emotion and continuing her speech, "and Sam and Frodo, of course. Well, Merry and Pippin are first cousins, and Pippin and Frodo are second cousins once-removed." She paused, furrowing her brows. "Or maybe it's twice removed, I never can remember. Anyway, Sam is from Bagshot Row, and he _loves_ Elves, and poetry, and gardening."

Keira turned to find Glorfindel watching her instead of the Hobbits. Grinning, she lightly slapped his arm. "You're not even paying attention, Glorfindel."

His smile was light as he leaned against the doorframe. "Of course I am, Keira. However," he said, eyeing her with a curious look," I am wondering why you are describing their heritage from the entryway, and not actually _joining_ them. You have talked about little else for months."

She frowned, turning to watch Pippin shovel more food into his mouth. "Well, Lord Elrond suggested that _maybe_ I get a little excited around Hobbits, and _perhaps_ I should give them a chance to rest after their journey."

Glorfindel chuckled, and Keira intentionally avoided his eyes.

For some unknown reason, Keira found herself reluctant to meet the Fellowship. She presumed it was because she would have plenty of time to get to know them properly. But a niggling in her mind told her it was something else entirely, something a little less simple. Ignoring it, her eyes ghosted over the long dining table, until finally coming to a rest on Boromir.

The unknown emotion slammed into her without warning, sending every nerve in her body on edge. She froze, but her hammering heart took off at lightning speed. Boromir must have felt her stare, because he looked straight at her from across the hall; then, with a sharp gasp, the emotion fully engulfed Keira.

Like flipping a switch in a room drenched in darkness, the realization almost blinded her. The dim fog clouding her mind suddenly made sense, and the constant shadow she'd worn shrugged itself loose to force her attention.

Keira was afraid.

Breaking eye contact with the Steward of Gondor, she spared a brief glance at Glorfindel before backing out of the doorway. "I'm going to step outside for a moment," she said, shakily. "I just need some air—"

"Keira, are you—"

"I'm fine, Glorfindel," she pressed, smiling weakly. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon."

Keira felt the heat from his gaze linger as she retreated. Everything was catching up to her at once; and now that it was all in motion, she didn't have time to properly wrap her head around it.

Time, the ever-present enigma, was once again not on her side.

Stepping outside, Keira exhaled into the night. Here, she couldn't see anything but the sky. Here, she didn't have to think about the future, and she didn't have to think about the Council. It was just her and the sky that swallowed all her problems.

* * *

The painted blues of the sky had already begun to chase the sunlight down the horizon, and it wasn't long before the night turned a darker shade of navy. The rain had come and gone, leaving a clear, cloudless sky and a light dusting of stars in its wake.

Glorfindel stepped out into the cool night air. By the time he found her lightly snoring at the base of an oak tree, the night had stamped out the daylight and the stars shone brightly overhead. He smiled and knelt beside her.

Her face was unguarded and brightened by moonlight. She looked peaceful to the unobservant. Calm, completely at ease. Gently, he swept his thumb over the darkened shadows beneath her eyes, and his smile faltered.

Glorfindel was not unobservant.

He turned to scan the border with sharp eyes. There was no movement, save for the occasional deer stirring in the forest's depths. The night was quiet, calm, and deceptively idle.

Blue eyes narrowed in the dark.

Even now, the Nazgûls' presence lingered; and it pressed, dark and dense, against his mind. He looked back down at the sleeping girl, and his frown deepened.

Suddenly, Glorfindel sensed a new presence emerge. The silent darkness did nothing to obscure their comings, and he stood to watch as the pair entered the valley. As they drew closer, Glorfindel greeted Elladan and Elrohir with a tip of his head, and they returned it in kind, dismounting their horses and sending them away with a quick command.

"My friends, tell me what you know," Glorfindel said, his focus trained on the border.

"The Nazgûl were able to evade our pursuit," Elrohir replied. "The Bruinen's rise erased their tracks, though I sense their presence still."

Elladan nodded in the dark. "They remain near, yet the loss of their mounts leaves them vulnerable, weakened. On foot, we have the advantage."

Glorfindel cast a sidelong glance his direction. Then, with a calculating look, he shook his head. "We cannot afford a pursuit; not now, not with the evil currently residing in our own walls. The risk is too high."

Elrohir turned, the tree branches casting darkened shadows over his face. "Of what do you speak, Glorfindel? A darkness lingers in the air; though what it is, I cannot be sure."

Just then, a quiet groan caused the elves to turn to the sleeping girl beneath the tree. Three pairs of eyes softened in the moonlight. Elladan ducked his head beneath the branches. Moving closer, he bent down and picked Keira up, grinning as the creases in her face deepened, a silent protest at being disturbed.

Glorfindel kept his eyes on her and slowly closed the distance between them. "Find Aragorn," he said, running a gentle finger over the crease between her brows. When her face relaxed, he said, "Find Aragorn, and tell him what you know. We will reconvene once all have been informed."

Light danced across her face as a cool wind swept by and made the tree branches twist and bend. Glorfindel frowned. "Tomorrow," he said, forcing himself to look away. "Tomorrow, we will have our answer."

* * *

Keira opened bleary eyes, trying to figure out why the ground was moving.

Or, better yet, why _she_ was moving.

She was most likely dreaming, she decided, and the pull to drift off and believe it was almost as heavy as her eyelids. She blinked, and her green eyes shot open when she realized she was being carried.

"I am _trying_ , Elrohir. She is fidgety, like a small rabbit—"

"You mustn't drop her, brother—"

"Yes, _thank you_ , brother. I am aware I must not drop the sleeping human."

He shifted her weight in his arms, and a wide, cheerful smile crept up Keira's face.

"Though, she is rather heavy, maybe I ought to — ow!"

Whatever he ought to do was cut off by the swift smack Keira landed on his shoulder, and she looked up, daring him to say more. But her stern glare quickly melted when she looked into his bright, mischievous eyes. With a strangled noise, Keira wrapped her arms around him tightly, holding on as though he might disappear.

"You're back," she whispered. Blinking rapidly, she saw Elrohir following behind them and wearing a smile of his own. She reached her hand out to him. "You're both back."

Elrohir took her hand and squeezed; and for a moment, Keira had to fight back tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Elrohir became a watery blur as he walked behind her, and she felt Elladan's shrug.

"Of course we are, Keira," he said, nonchalantly. "We told you we would be, did we not?"

Keira resisted rolling her eyes. _Elves_ , she thought.

"Might I add," Elrohir added, smirking, " _I_ do not think you have grown heavier, Keira. I am certain it is Elladan's lack of strength which gives him trouble. Certainly not you."

This time she did roll her eyes, but grinned anyway. "Thank you, Elrohir. You are too kind."

She felt Elladan chuckle and open a door, and she looked around her room, confused. Blinking against the darkness, a realization hit her as Elladan crossed the room to gently lay her in bed.

"Wait," she rushed out, springing up before her back hit the pillows. "You're going to talk to Aragorn, aren't you?" Pushing back the covers Elladan had somehow wrapped her in, she ignored their looks of surprise. "Well, I'm coming with you."

Elrohir placed his hands on either side of her shoulders and effectively pinned her down. She continued to struggle, shooting him her best glare for good measure. He laughed at her pitiful attempt. Scowling, she gave up and slouched against her pillows, defeated.

Elladan chuckled at her wrinkled nose. "You must rest, Keira. We will still be here come morning."

"But I'm not tired," she said, frowning as they kissed her forehead. "And besides, you just got here. And I haven't even met Aragorn. I promise I won't—"

But they were already halfway gone, whispering their goodnights through a slowly closing door. Groaning, Keira flopped down on her bed, scowling as she turned to watch a soft wind ripple through trees.

The suspended moon told her it must be close to midnight, but she knew sleep would be a long-shot. Not with the anxious thoughts now creeping along the back of her skull like a slow-growing vine, and tomorrow's Council looming over her like a shadow.

Keira's jaw clenched, her thoughts turning tenacious, unrelenting, filling her with self-doubt.

In the months leading up to this moment, the hours, weeks, and days had all seeped into each other, until slow became fast and minutes had lost their meaning. And now, Keira's heart fervently ached to go back in time. Somehow, she had lost track; and the precious moments, the calm before the storm, was now decidedly a distant memory.

Reality was settling in.

Keira would leave Rivendell. And realistically, she wouldn't make it back.

A troubled sigh left her lips and she hastily tossed her covers back, the sudden need to escape her room and her dejected thoughts pulling her out of bed. She quickly grabbed her cloak and set out into the corridor.

The cheerful flicker of torches dotted along the walls belied the hushed, weighted silence of the hallway. The air turned humid in her lungs, heavy and dense. Keira sucked in a deep breath. Frowning when it did little to help, she navigated the corridor and stepped outside.

Keira breathed deeply, drinking in the cool, crisp air, grateful for the change the night provided. As her eyes adjusted, she focused on the space around her. She stood, momentarily frozen, at the reason behind her current distress.

She blinked as the meeting spot for the council came into sharp focus in the moonlight. With heavy legs, Keira walked up the dais and sunk into one of the elaborate chairs. Looking around, fear crept up her spine and she was certain she could properly admit it now: she was so, so afraid.

Afraid of leaving, afraid of going, afraid of never coming back.

Her hands began to shake and she wrung them out quickly, frowning when it did nothing to help. Gripping the sides of the chair, her knuckles turned a pale white under the autumn moon as she squeezed her eyes closed.

"You can do this, Keira," she whispered, her breath warm on her tongue. "You can definitely do this. Well, maybe. Probably. You can probably do this."

Her second-rate pep talk was cut short when she heard someone behind her. Turning, she saw Gandalf appear through the darkness, his grey robes and silvery hair shining in the moonlight.

"Ah, Miss Darcy, what a pleasant surprise."

Keira watched as the wizard crossed the dais to join her, his staff slicing through the silence as it made contact with the stone floor. He sat, dug through his cloak then lit his pipe, absently watching the smoke twist and unfurl with the wind.

He was quiet for a moment, apparently lost in thought. "A veil of shadows on a starlit night," he then whispered, his voice so quiet she almost didn't hear.

Keira cocked her head. "What was that, Gandalf?"

He didn't reply, eyes still glazed with unknown thoughts. Keira eyed the wizard warily before joining him to look at the sky.

"Do you enjoy the stars, my dear?"

Caught off guard, she blinked at him, then nodded. "Well, yes," she said, slowly. "I mean, I was never any good at constellations or remembering galaxies, but I always thought they were pretty." She tipped her head back, smiling. "They are...comforting, somehow."

Gandalf raised a brow. "Oh? In what way?"

Keira considered his question. "It's not just the stars, I suppose. The sky seems so much bigger in the dark. Like it's been waiting so patiently for the sun to go down, waiting for its turn to take over. Then the stars come out and they're just so...happy to be there. Twinkling and blinking as if that's all they were meant to do. It makes my problems seem almost trivial." The following silence was punctuated with sadness. "Until morning, at least."

Keira's following words were left on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell him that in her world, stars flicker and burn and fade. That their life is limited, fleeting.

But, she didn't. Instead, she looked up at the expansive night, gathering all her courage from the glittering specks and pretending they were permanent. Because in this world, she supposed, they were.

"I want to be there tomorrow," she rushed out before her courage had a chance to fail her. "At the Council, I mean. I need to be there."

If Gandalf were surprised by her request, he didn't show it. Instead, he twirled his long beard between his fingers and puffed his pipe, scrutinizing her, while Keira desperately needed him to say something.

Then, slowly, he said, "I find I do not envy you, Miss Darcy." Rising from his chair, Gandalf walked across the dais to look out across the valley. With his back to her, he said, "Knowledge such as yours requires a delicate balancing act; one slip, and you may find the world has fallen from your shoulders. And," he said, turning, "into the hands of one much less deserving than yourself."

Keira blinked at him, confused. "Okay, but that doesn't really answer my question."

"Does it not? Well, I suppose it will in time, as most things do."

Keira held back a groan. "So may I come to the Council?" She drew in a long, shaky breath. "I feel as though I'm...meant to be there." She looked at him, brows knitted together. "Don't you agree?"

Gandalf sighed; and for a moment, his age showed on the wrinkled lines of his forehead. "It would seem fate has already supplied you with that answer. A choice, made long ago." His normally twinkling eyes dimmed in the dark. "Whether I agree or not, my dear, is insignificant."

She blinked. "So, is that a yes?"

With another sigh, the wizard moved to stand at her side and patted her shoulder. "Yes, Keira. Tomorrow's Council requires your presence. Though might I suggest acquiring some sleep, beforehand, hmm?" Another grandfatherly pat, then he lit his pipe before turning to leave.

"You know, that really is an awful habit."

Gandalf stopped and looked at the pipe as though he'd never considered that before. "Perhaps. Though, I prefer to take little joys where I am able to find them." A smile grew on his face. "And the hobbits can be quite crafty when it concerns worldly comforts. I suggest you keep that in mind going forward, Miss Darcy."

"Little joys or worldly comforts?"

He looked at her, the familiar twinkling returning. "I find them to be both one and the same. Good night, my dear."

And with that, he was gone. Keira took one last look at her surroundings, and decided the wizard was right; some sleep might be in order.

Lying in bed, Keira counted the passing hours with each changing shade of the sky. Sleep never came, and a quiet knock on her door told her it was time.

Answering it, she greeted Glorfindel with a weak smile. He seemed taller in the narrow doorway; and she did her best not to look him in the eye, unsure if her resolve would crumble completely beneath that indecipherable stare. She felt his hand rest on the side of her face, causing her to look up against her better judgment.

His blue eyes bored with their familiar intensity. A sadness seemed to cloud his handsome features, but it had gone before she could make sense of it. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Stay close to me."

Keira nodded past the lump in her throat. His proximity gave her a semblance of strength, one she was sure to need before the day was through. He kissed her lightly on the temple and took her hand.

He led her through the familiar corridors, lacing his fingers through hers and giving them a reassuring squeeze. It helped, though only just. Each step sent a new round of fear to spike sharply in her veins. As they rounded the corner, Keira halted, and Glorfindel looked back at her questioningly.

"You go ahead," she said, hoping her smile was reassuring. "I'll be right behind. Promise."

The corners of his lips pulled down into a frown, but he nodded and released her hand. Without it, she felt suddenly bereft. She watched him walk away until he was out of sight, then turned sharply down an adjoining corridor. Hearing whispers, she padded quietly down the hallway until the whispers grew louder. She poked her head around the archway.

"No, Merry, I am certain they will not see us here—"

"These are _Elves_ , Pip," the hushed voice insisted. " _Elves._ And besides, your plans almost never work."

"If you are referring to the carrot incident, I will have you know—"

"Psst!"

The two Hobbits froze. Keira saw Merry give Pippin a look that screamed 'I told you so,' and Pippin, aware of being caught, lowered his eyes.

Keira struggled to keep a straight face. "You two might want to try over there," she whispered, pointing to a column with a direct view of the Council.

Merry and Pippin looked at the column, then to each other, then back at her. "Thanks, Miss!" Pippin said, scurrying behind the column and waving his hand for Merry to join.

Merry shook his head and mumbled something under his breath, but gave Keira a friendly smile before joining him.

Satisfied, Keira ventured back through the corridor and hesitantly stepped outside.

All the representatives of Middle-earth were seated in the semi-circle chairs. For a moment, Keira completely forgot how to breathe. The air expanded and burned in her lungs. Her eyes danced between the faces, singling out the Fellowship instinctively, until resting on Glorfindel's. Exhaling, she held onto his stare like a lifeline and crossed the dais, very much aware of the strange looks she was receiving.

The air was thick, buzzing with the significance of the moment, and Keira was having a hard time quieting the rushing in her ears. When Lord Elrond stood, her blood turned cold in her veins.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor."

Keira ignored the riotous beating against her ribcage, ignored the swell of apprehension now gathering in her chest.

"Middle-earth stands on the brink of destruction. None can escape it." His grave eyes glided over the Council, briefly meeting her own. "Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom."

A tense silence rang loudly in her ears. Lord Elrond turned to Frodo, and her world slowed to a single, solitary moment.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys, long time no see :)**

 **First of all, I really _really_ hoped you liked this chapter. I know it's been a long time coming; and for that, I sincerely apologize. I wanted to shed a little light on why I've been gone for almost a year (gasp!), and I hope you'll all have it in your hearts to understand. I don't want to hit you with a sad bomb, but I do feel an explanation is in order. **

**My amazing, warm-hearted, incredibly kind brother passed away. And not long after, my sweet mother-in-law did as well. Between that and trying to finish nursing school, then graduating and becoming a brand new baby nurse, I was just...overwhelmed. And heartbroken. I tried to write, I really did. But I had lost my creativity. Nothing would come; and when it did, I wasn't happy with the result. So, I took a break.**

 **But I want you all to know that each follow or favorite or review left a bright spot during a very dark time in my life. I read each review, and each one was so precious to me. I am so, so thankful for all of your support.**

 **Okay, I'll stop rambling now. I obviously have not abandoned this story. I won't promise on an updating schedule, because I've learned that life happens and shit gets in the way. But I'm going to keep writing, because it brings me joy again.**

 **All my love,**

 **-dartwing**


	10. The Council

" _All the world's a stage,_

 _And all the men and women merely players;_

 _They have their exits and their entrances,_

 _And one man in his time plays many parts."_

-William Shakespeare, _As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII_

* * *

It was a beautiful day by anybody's standards. Amber light from the morning sun pooled around the courtyard, and had it been any other day, with any other purpose, she may have thought it peaceful. Serene, even. Falling leaves trailed to the ground in a dizzying dance, and her eyes followed their descent with the unseen haze of someone far away.

But it wasn't any other day, and their purpose in the sunlit courtyard was painfully clear.

The air became saturated with tension as all eyes turned to the Hobbit, and Keira swore she felt its weight pressed down like a heavy cloud, wrapping around her and settling on her shoulders like a thick, woolen blanket.

Her mind now firmly in the present, Keira watched as Frodo walked to the center of the courtyard, his uncertainty appearing to swell and increase with each step. The silence was stifling, but she didn't dare move when a breeze cut it in half.

The moment had arrived too soon, and her mind was desperately trying to catch up.

Frodo's hesitant steps were both achingly slow and remarkably fast, and she couldn't decide which she preferred. A niggling voice reminded her this moment was inevitable; but still, it did nothing to slow her pounding heart. Pale, ghost-white fingers strained against her wooden chair when the Hobbit reached the courtyard's center. And when Frodo reached out, she heard the sharp intake as the Council drew a collective breath.

He sat the Ring down.

The weight of the air increased.

And, for just a moment, everything was silent.

Keira released a slow breath as whispers floated through the courtyard, but they seemed far away, as though she were hearing them from behind a veil. Even from across the courtyard, she could feel the Ring's presence, and it spread like a slow-starting fire, white and hot under her skin.

Forcing her eyes up, she watched Frodo return to his seat, Gandalf's frown deepening beside him. A heavy silence hung in the air before her eyes instinctively went to Boromir.

With a pounding heartbeat, she watched Boromir stand to deliver his lines.

"So it is true."

With an effort obvious to her alone, Keira forced herself to not look away.

"In a dream," Boromir continued, moving closer to the Ring. "I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. But in the West, a pale light lingered."

Keira watched the Steward of Gondor's conviction grow with every word. Her grip on her chair tightened as Boromir's voice dropped to a whisper.

"A voice was crying, 'Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's bane is found.'"

Keira's eyes darted to Elrond before his speech could end, and his voice struck the air like lightning.

" _Boromir_!"

Her gaze snapped to Gandalf. The sky darkened as the air turned thick and heavy, the foundation under her feet rumbling with the wind. A sweeping of dread settled deep within her bones.

The wizard's harsh words filled the sky.

" _Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."_

In an instant, fear coiled through the Council like a snake.

The Black Speech was inescapable. Dark, malevolent sensations of hate crashed around her, pinning her to her seat and robbing her breath.

Her vision swam and the floor swayed beneath her feet. Nausea rolled in her stomach like waves.

The air tasted like static. Like ice and fire flickering on her tongue.

Before Keira could fully comprehend what was happening, the feeling was gone. The sky lightened. Her breathing evened out. Slowly, she opened her eyes, not remembering having closed them in the first place. Looking down, she saw her hand clasped around Glorfindel's in a vice-like grip.

She felt his eyes on her and inhaled slowly before meeting his gaze, giving him a tight, reassuring nod before turning her attention to Elrond.

Elrond stood, his sharp eyes boring into Gandalf. "Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris," he hissed.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," Gandalf replied, rising slowly from his seat. His frown deepened as he turned to face the Council. "For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil."

Keira let out a shaky breath. Her gaze flicked again to Boromir.

"It is a gift," Boromir said, conviction rising again in his tone. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Give Gondor the weapon of the Enemy. Let us use it against them—"

"You cannot wield it. None of us can."

Her eyes were on Aragorn before he spoke.

"The One Ring answers to Sauron alone," he said. "It has no other master."

Boromir scowled. "And what would a Ranger know of this matter?"

Keira flinched. Whispers of self-doubt prickled at the back of her mind as the moment quickly closed in. The courtyard felt as though it were shrinking, as though the air was turning thin. She barely glanced up as Legolas stood to defend Aragorn, and she lost her place as the conversation continued around her.

"Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King."

Keira squeezed her hands to stop them from shaking. She forced oxygen into her lungs, dragging it in through her nose as quietly as she could.

Gandalf sighed. "Aragorn is right. We cannot use it."

"You have only one choice," Elrond said, eyeing each Council member in turn. "The Ring must be destroyed."

The declaration forced her back to the present. Keira braced herself as Gimli stood, wrapping her arms around her to shield against the upcoming blow.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" the dwarf growled, and he swung his axe high in the air, bringing it down with all the force of a hurricane. The impact splintered his weapon into a hundred scattered pieces; but the harsh, blinding light searing past her vision made her gasp.

Keira shook her head. Whispers of the Black Speech lingered faintly on the air, and she swore remnants of static sizzled on her tongue.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess," Elrond said, frowning at the dwarf. "It was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade."

There was a long, quiet moment which pierced her soul.

"One of you must do this."

Boromir's scowl returned. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever-watchful."

Legolas leapt to his feet. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring _must_ be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think _you're_ the one to do it?"

The inevitable argument broke out around her. Each line, each memorized word meant she was one step closer to everything changing.

 _What if she couldn't do this?_

She closed her eyes against the thoughts, hoping to stamp them out like a fire dying in the wind. The Council continued to argue, anger ricocheting back and forth between the races.

Opening her eyes, Keira frowned when she met Frodo's gaze. The Hobbit's expression reflected everything she felt; fear, uncertainty, doubt, indecision. Each as clear as day, each as simple as they were honest. But her breath caught deep in her throat when his expression changed.

It was like watching a flower bloom at midnight, when it didn't have any right to. Suddenly, the fear left the little Hobbit's eyes and was replaced by clear certainty, one which Keira both envied and admired.

The sight washed over her like a storm.

"I will take it!" he cried, his voice lost to the Council. "I will take it!"

Keira's eyes collided with Gandalf's as the Council raged around them. And for a slip of a moment, everything became still; time suspended, tilting on its axis as his words slammed into her conscious and again robbed her breath.

 _You may rest assured, Keira Darcy, that this world has always believed in you._

Keira took a deep breath and faced the Council. Her heart pounded as the arguing continued, but she kept her eyes firmly on Frodo. When he stood, Keira released the aching breath.

"I will take it!" Frodo exclaimed. "I will take it!" Frodo grew quiet as the Council faced him. "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though...I do not know the way."

Gandalf released a pained sigh and laid a hand on Frodo's shoulder. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins. So long as it is yours to bear."

Forced tension in her shoulders, Keira took a brief, stolen moment to glance at Glorfindel, silently memorizing his profile, storing it away and locking it deep in her mind. It was of sunflowers and sunlight and everything bright and beautiful, just as it should've been, just as it always was.

And Keira swore her heart broke a little at the sight.

Aragorn stood and the moment slipped away. "By my life or death, if I can protect you, I will," he said, reaching the Hobbit in three swift strides. "You have my sword."

A wave of apprehension rose and intensified.

"And you have my bow."

There was no other choice.

"And my axe."

She would do this.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one."

Keira poised on the edge of her seat.

"If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

Keira closed her eyes a final time. With a deep, calming breath, she forced them open, steeling her mind against the lingering fear and pushed herself up.

But before she could stand, before she could take a single step, a firm arm collided with her chest, forcing her back to her chair with an audible thump. Looking down, Keira's green eyes blinked with confusion as she followed the arm to Glorfindel's face.

Looking into his eyes was like standing next to a hot, brandishing fire, and the heat prickled along Keira's skin and seared into her skull. Deep, fitful lines cast shadows along his porcelain skin, silently daring her to look away. His mouth was set in a grim line; and when he spoke, his whisper was both quiet and harsh.

"No, Keira."

She parted her lips but faltered at his simmering eyes. Fractured gasps of air slipped past her teeth and she tore her gaze away, lost to the world now swimming around her. She barely registered Sam leap from behind the bushes or Merry and Pippin join the Council. Only one question burned bright to her haze-filled eyes, and it shook down to her core.

 _What the hell was going on?_

* * *

The clipped sound of her footfalls rang like bells in the familiar corridors, striking her ears and doing nothing to calm her racing mind. Coming to an abrupt stop at Lord Elrond's study, she knocked hard against the door.

"Lord Elrond, I need to speak with you," she rushed out, hating how her voice trembled in the deserted hallway. Frowning when no answer came, she knocked again. "Lord Elrond, please, this is important. I really need to–"

The door creaked open, revealing a calm yet pensive Elrond. After a drawn moment, he nodded solemnly, stepping back to allow her in.

As she entered the study, Keira was instantly consumed by the heavy silence, and the thick, unspoken tension rattled her nerves like a caged bird. Shaking away her lingering apprehension, she nodded at Gandalf, though couldn't quite work up the courage to meet Glorfindel's stare. Even so, she felt it burn into her with each hesitant step.

As Elrond closed the door, Keira quickly turned. "Lord Elrond, I need to speak with you."

Elrond arched a brow. "Yes, Keira, I had gathered that. Come," he said, gesturing to a chair. "Please, have a seat."

"I'd prefer to stand, actually," she said, glancing at the chair. "This won't take long."

Lord Elrond nodded and crossed the study. With his hands folded behind his back, he glanced conspicuously over her shoulder before joining her. "And what is it that concerns you, my dear?"

Straightening, Keira breathed in slowly, willing her racing thoughts to slow. "Well, I believe you already know why I'm here."

She held her ground as silence once again filled the room. He looked at her expectantly, and the tortuous moments ticked by with no hint of acknowledgement. So, with great effort, she forced her voice to steady.

"Lord Elrond, I want to join the Fellowship."

The following silence was drawn, tense, and too long for her liking. After a moment, he spoke, his voice steady but firm.

"I am afraid I cannot allow that, Keira."

Her brows pulled together, the confusion passing her face like a transparent veil. Hesitating, she glanced at Gandalf for half a breath. "Excuse me? What do you mean you can't allow it?"

"Exactly as I said, Keira," Lord Elrond stoically replied. "I cannot allow you to join the Fellowship."

A beat of silence passed. Shaking her head, she stepped back as her now frantic-laced eyes darted between Elrond and Gandalf. "I'm sorry, what? What are you talking about? But I have to go with the Fellowship. I _am_ going."

"No _,_ Keira. You are not."

Keira spun at Glorfindel's voice. His harsh tone caught her off guard, making her falter. He stood several paces away, but she clearly saw the taut muscles of his jaw, the barely concealed emotion rolling off him in waves.

Refusing to relent, she tilted her chin and matched his tone with equal fervor. "Yes, Glorfindel. _I am_."

Keira held her breath as he crossed the room. His steps were slow, calculated; and now that he was inches away, Keira saw his blue eyes had darkened, turning almost navy in the filtered light.

An almost dangerous expression stole his striking features. "Listen to me, Keira," he demanded, his breath hot on her skin. "You will not be going with the Fellowship. You will not go _anywhere_ near the Ring. Do you understand me?"

For the span of a heartbeat, indignation bubbled under her skin. The weight of his words sat heavy in the now silent room, and she stepped back, narrowing her eyes as tension rippled between them.

"I'm sorry," she said, straightening her back as her eyebrows rose, "But who exactly do you think you are, Glorfindel? What gives you any right to dictate what I will or will not do?"

An unknown emotion flashed across his features, but Keira closed her heart to it, turning to the wizard with wide, desperate eyes. "Gandalf, you have to tell them. Tell them I have to go."

Gandalf sighed, and in the space of his breath, Keira's heart skipped a beat. "I believe there has been a misunderstanding, Miss Darcy."

"What do you mean a misunderstanding? But I have to go. The Valar—"

"The Valar," Lord Elrond interjected, "Did not send you here for this purpose. Gandalf is correct, Keira. You have misunderstood."

Keira inhaled sharply, her eyes darting between the two. "I'm sorry, what? Wh-what do you mean a misunderstanding?"

Lord Elrond's frown deepened. "Precisely as I have said, Keira. Your assumptions, however evident they may be, are misguided." He moved to stand beside Gandalf, and his next words were spoken with ringing finality.

"You are not meant to go on this quest."

Keira stepped back, a stunned look stealing her features. For a haunting moment, the thoughts which had plagued her mind from the beginning slammed into her conscience.

And then they spread like chaotic, untamed wildfire.

"No," she whispered, her eyes dropping to the floor. The elegant wood grain blurred as she clutched her chest against the rising panic. "No," she repeated. "This is all wrong. This _has_ to be wrong." She tore her eyes from the ground. "This has to be a mistake. I have to go. I _am_ going."

Glorfindel took her by the shoulders, forcing her eyes to his as a sharp edge stained his voice. "Listen to me, Keira," he said insistently. "This quest does not concern you, The Valar–"

"I don't care about the Valar!" she yelled, yanking herself free as her stormy eyes clashed with his. "I don't give a damn what they want from me! Last I checked, this was a volunteer mission. Well, I volunteer. I _am_ going!"

"Keira," he said, reaching for her hand, "You cannot begin to imagine what you will face, what lies beyond these borders. You could become injured, or—"

"Or _what_ , Glorfindel?" she said, bringing her face closer to his, her eyes sparking hotly. "Or what? I could _die_? Perhaps you have forgotten, but I have _done_ that already."

Keira witnessed the shocked hurt before it could transform, and a small piece of her almost regretted her words. He stepped back, seemingly stunned, until anger sharpened his expression. Clenching his fists, his eyes darkened further. "Do not be so cavalier about your death, Keira," he bit out in a harsh whisper. "Never speak to me of your death as though it is nothing. Do you understand?"

"You have _no_ right to dictate my choices, Glorfindel," she said, pointing a finger at his chest. "I will be going on this quest. It is _my_ choice. _Mine_."

"Keira, stop."

Keira bit her tongue as Gandalf stepped between them. The wizard's eyes were uncharacteristically sad, and something in her gut twisted at the sight. Breathing deeply, her voice turned small and caught at the edge of her words. "Gandalf, you have to tell them. Please, please make them understand."

Gandalf sighed, his long, silvery beard shaking with his head. "My dear child," he whispered, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. "I see clearly your desire to help. It is noble, one which I would not expect any less from your kind." He lifted a white, bushy brow. "But even your mind, one which knows the story of Middle-earth, cannot see the entire picture before it is painted. Your shoulders were not meant to carry this burden."

He straightened, and his last words hit her straight in the chest.

"It is not your fate, Keira Darcy."

The room started to spin as the faint outline of stars formed at her vision's edge. Her breaths now erratic, she looked at the wizard with helpless eyes. "But why even go to the Council at all?" she asked in a strangled voice. "Why else, if not for this? What else—"

Keira clamped her mouth shut at the unspoken question.

 _What else was there?_

When she looked up, Gandalf's mouth was pulled into a deep, unsettling frown. Drawing in a haggard breath, she glanced at Elrond, noticing the same downward pull of his lips, the same heavy-hearted stare.

Finally, Keira gathered the remains of her courage and looked at Glorfindel.

As green eyes met blue from across the room, an ache slowly gathered deep in her heart, and Keira could swear she felt it digging into her chest. His face was nothing short of heartbroken, as though he was concealing some deeper hurt, and it was enough to pierce straight to her soul. It simply didn't belong there; not on him. Not on the Glorfindel she had come to know. Near crumbling, Keira sucked in a breath and backed away, her hands trembling as she crossed the room.

"I—I have to go," she said, her shaking hands reaching for the door.

"Keira, wait—"

She ignored Glorfindel and threw open the heavy door, its forceful blow echoing throughout the halls. Whatever it was in his eyes, in _all_ their eyes, Keira didn't want to know. She felt the desperate need to get out of this room, away from their looks, away from whatever their eyes meant. Her rapid footsteps quickly turned into a sprint and she tore through the corridors, breathing shallowly as the tapestries blurred and faded behind her.

Rushing outside, she stopped abruptly as the valley of Imladris stretched out before her like a canvas. She hesitated for the space of a breath, then her feet began to move of their own accord. Past the entrance gate and down the familiar trails to the stables, Keira ran, refusing to look over her shoulder.

The chill of the Autumn air burned deep in her lungs as her legs pounded the cold-hardened earth. She entered the stables with shaking hands, and with a grateful sigh, she spotted the great white horse and rushed to his side. Reaching out, Asfaloth dipped his head and she quickly hopped on, leading the horse with a swift command.

" _Noro lim,_ Asfaloth."

Keira let him guide her, doing little as they went over the sweeping hills, past the bridge, and through the thick forest on the valley's edge. Her breathing was sharp and painful as she dodged branches, and her eyes stung against the cold, fitful wind.

Her thoughts raced in time with each stomp of the horse's swift strides. Fractured notions assaulted her panic-stricken mind as Asfaloth slowed, coming to a stop along the riverbank. Her breaths now shallow and unsteady, Keira slipped off his back and slid to the pebbled bank. Drawing her legs close, her fingers dug into her sides as strangled sobs escaped her lips.

How could she have been so wrong? Reality cracked and splintered as the question played on an endless loop, and she felt so foolish, so deceived. Wind howled and whirled through the trees, but did nothing to drown her broken cries.

It was all too much for her to process. Her arrival, the training, the Council...they all seemed so distant now, as though time was again playing tricks on her already shattered mind. How could she have gotten it so wrong? And _why_ had Glorfindel looked at her like that?

So many secrets, so many half-spoken truths. Suddenly, Keira felt very much alone. Distant eyes glossed over the Bruinen and her tears fell freely, breaking as easily as the river's waves.

The thoughts chased themselves around her brain as the sky began to lose its color, until only an orange strip of light remained on the horizon. Her eyes were beginning to strain against the cool wind when she heard footsteps behind her. Twisting at the sound, she frowned.

"Aragorn," she said, caught off guard. She hastily wiped at her tear-stained cheeks. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

The sky was deep and dark, but his face was brightened by moonlight. He moved to sit beside her on the pebbled bank. "Well," he said slowly, a half-smile on his face. "I am not certain what you have heard, but I am quite adept at finding people."

Keira let out something resembling a laugh. "So I've been told."

She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He remained silent, his eyes distant as he stared at the rippling water. Finally, she broke the silence. "What are you doing here, Aragorn?"

Aragorn turned to face her, lifting his brow. "I should ask you the same."

Keira frowned. "I'm not really sure anymore," she said quietly, mostly to herself. At his silence, she sighed and stretched her stiff legs out on the bank. "I needed to get away for a while. To be with my thoughts, I suppose."

Aragorn nodded. "To be with your thoughts is something which is often taken for granted. I know the feeling well."

"And so you decided to interrupt anyway?"

His laugh was as rich as his voice. "Of that, I am guilty. Though," he countered, "there are a few in Imladris who are quite concerned for you. One in particular, I should say."

Her frown deepened. "I was never going to go past the river. I know better than that."

Aragorn peered at her in the dark. "I am not merely speaking of your safety."

Keira said nothing but felt Aragorn's eyes bore into her profile. She didn't need to ask who he was referring to. She could almost see him now, even in the dark. His bright, golden hair, his too-blue eyes that saw everything. The silence sat heavy in the night, but the sting of their last conversation was like a cacophony to her ears.

Aragorn's soft voice brought her back to the present. "What is on your mind, Keira?"

A harsh sting rippled through her chest. "Nothing," she said, a little too quickly. "I'm fine." She forced her eyes from the water, meeting his gaze. "Really, Aragorn. Everything's fine. I appreciate your concern, but really, we don't need to talk about it."

He was silent for a moment. "There is no shame in what you are feeling, Keira."

She grit her teeth, pushing the emotion down with concentrated effort. "I told you, I'm fine."

"Anger has its place. Often, it is the pathway to healing."

Keira's hands tightened into fists. The feelings she'd fought against so desperately threatened to spill over, making her heart beat recklessly behind her ribs. "Aragorn, please, just stop."

But her words fell on deaf ears. Aragorn tilted his head, his wise, knowing eyes shining with the stars. "Do not deny yourself the chance to feel, Keira. Sometimes letting go is a far greater power than holding on."

With a frustrated growl, Keira bolted off the ground, shaking the dust from her pants as she strode to the river's edge. Her breath came out in short, labored pants as the trickling water lapped at her boots. The chill settled around her toes and she forced air in and out, steadying herself against the wind.

Aragorn came up beside her, his voice carrying with the wind. "Tell me where your anger lies."

She tore her eyes from the ground, her stare incredulous and hurt under the cobalt sky. "How can you ask me that, Aragorn?" she asked weakly. "You know about my past, I know you do." His silence spoke volumes in the whispering wind. Still, his patient eyes pressed her for more. Keira shook her head, swiping at her tangled hair with harried hands. "Fine," she said, eyes glinting in the dark. "You want to know why I'm angry? You really want to know?"

Aragorn's patient stare was like salt in the wound. With a deep breath, she forced the words through gritted teeth. "I'm angry that everything I believed was a lie. And I'm angry because there's nothing I can do about it."

Her face twisted momentarily, but she shook the emotion away. "I'm angry," she continued, squeezing her eyes shut, "that no one will tell me what I'm doing here." She let out a slow breath. "And I'm angry because I know they can't."

Keira slowly opened her eyes. Aragorn continued to watch her, his eyes soft with what she thought was understanding. For some reason, the image made her heart ache; and when her face twisted this time, she was powerless to stop it.

"I'm angry," she said, her voice cracking, "that I'll never see my father again. Or my friends, or my home. My _entire_ world is gone, Aragorn. Do you know what that feels like?" she asked, her eyes darting desperately between his. "Do you have any idea how that feels? To know that you'll never see everyone you ever loved again? And for what?" She threw her hands up with a strangled laugh. "To sit back and do nothing? To watch on the sidelines, unable to help?"

The darkness did nothing to hide his concern, and it was more than Keira could take. A cracked sob left her before she could hold it back. As her knees hit the rocks, she felt Aragorn's firm grasp on her shoulders, her breaths shallow and fractured as he knelt beside her.

When her voice returned, it was small and broken. "I don't know what I'm doing here, Aragorn."

He tilted her bowed head to his. He looked thoughtful for the space of a long, deep breath, as if choosing his words carefully. "The future is an impossible thing to be certain of, Keira," he said, taking her hand. "I have spent many moons searching for the same certainty, the same conviction. It is not within our power to know all which will pass in our time."

A weak sob made her head drop, but Aragorn forced her eyes to his. She inhaled sharply to speak, but he cut her off.

"Your life will be filled with questions, many of which may go unanswered. It is the courage to seek those answers which gives meaning to your life. Courage, Keira," he whispered, his eyes piercing into hers. "That is all which is required of you. Courage to continue in the face of doubt."

She blinked through her tears. "I don't know what that means anymore, Aragorn. I-I thought I was being courageous before, but now I don't know."

His eyes were soft. "What you have lost can never be replaced, never forgotten." He placed a hand over his chest. "Your world continues to live while you hold it in your heart. Your memories, your love, keep it alive. Never forget that," he said, his eyes burning bright. "Your courage comes from those you love, and those who love you. And you, Keira Darcy, have the love of two worlds."

Her head bowed, the sobs now rippling through her like broken waves. She had been so sure, so certain. And now? Now she felt the loss all over, like a deep, piercing wound.

The wind continued to howl as darkness closed in around them. Eventually, her tears stopped; but the ache in her chest lingered. She wiped at her face with the back at her sleeve, swallowing hard before pulling back.

"You know," she said, grateful her voice hadn't betrayed her, "This wasn't really how I had pictured meeting you."

Aragorn gave her a small smile. "And what was it you pictured?"

Keira grimaced, blinking up at the stars. "I'm not sure. Less crying, maybe?"

His offered hand crossed her vision. She took it, and he pulled her off the ground with a steady hand. When she met his eyes, sincerity washed over them like a gentle rain. "There is no weakness in tears, Keira," he told her quietly. "They are proof you care, proof of the courage you already hold. Never deny yourself the chance to feel what you hold in your heart."

Keira nodded past the lump in her throat. A well of gratitude swelled in her chest and she was struck speechless by the Ranger's unreserved kindness. Before she could express it, he took her hand.

"Are you ready to return?"

Keira sighed, a frown pulling at her lips. "I guess I have no choice, do I?"

"There is always a choice. We could stay longer, if you like."

It was a tempting offer. Her heart quickened at the thought of going back, but a cool breeze sliced through her wet clothes and she felt the chill of the night air seep into her skin. Shaking her head, she said, "No. No, I'm ready to go back."

The return was slow and silent, and Keira was grateful for both. Stars glittered overhead once they passed the thick forest, her mind racing with the wind. They reached the stables and she murmured a quiet thanks to Asfaloth before making their way inside.

The corridors were empty but warm. Heat travelled up her skin, though she was unsure if the torches dotting the walls were to blame. Eventually, too quickly, they stopped at Lord Elrond's study.

Aragorn turned to face her. "Courage, Keira.".

And with that, he left. She watched his retreat down the corridors until he turned, no longer in sight. Keira whispered, "Right. Courage," and faced the door. Staring at her shaking hand for a moment, she held her breath and knocked.

The time before she heard a reply lasted both a second and an eternity, and it took everything she had to open the door at Elrond's voice. Forcing her chin up, she immediately met Glorfindel's blue gaze as the door opened.

His eyes were unreadable, as always. The silent distance between them stretched out like a deep, jagged canyon. Still, she felt vulnerable in the open door frame. Inhaling sharply, she broke their gaze first, certain she would crack under its weight. She turned to shut the door behind her, taking a moment to steady herself before facing Elrond and Gandalf.

"Keira," Lord Elrond said, rising from his chair. "You have returned."

Keira nodded and slowly crossed the room. From here, she couldn't see Glorfindel; but felt his steady gaze track her nonetheless. She stood before Lord Elrond and kept her green eyes firmly on him.

"I should say we have much to speak on," Lord Elrond said after a pause, swirling a glass of what she assumed was wine. "However, I believe it can wait for another time."

Keira released a slow, grateful breath. She was unsure if she had the strength for what was undoubtedly a lengthy, emotion-filled conversation. Exhaustion was beginning to creep up on her, and she was certain it showed in her blood-shot eyes.

When he set the glass down, his face became serious as he turned. "Though, there is something I wish to impart on you."

Keira's head dropped a fraction. Elrond moved closer and lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his steady, sobering gaze.

"Hear my words, Keira," he said, taking her hand. "You must not allow your feelings to govern your actions. Feel them, yes. But do not allow them to cloud your mind."

He leaned in closer and Keira found herself struggling against his intimidating presence. But his eyes remained kind, and she held onto that safety like a lighthouse in a storm.

"Never run from your fear," he gently told her, squeezing her hand assuredly. "Or you may find yourself running all your life."

Keira nodded, a wave of guilt drifting over her. She spoke quietly, afraid her voice would crack at the seams. "I'm sorry, Lord Elrond."

He squeezed her hand again. Glancing behind her, he gave an almost imperceptible nod. "A learned lesson requires no apology, Keira," he said, patting her shoulder and moving to the door. "We will speak more another time."

Gandalf placed a wrinkled hand on her shoulder and steered her toward the door. Keira blinked up at him, but the wizard stepped into the corridor, the familiar twinkling in his eyes burning bright in the torchlight. Just as she was certain he was going to leave without a word, he turned.

"Miss Darcy," he said, his whisper low and conspiratorial. "Many times, the man hidden in the story has the greatest advantage, the higher ground on which to stand. Plotting their webs in shadows, weaving while unexposed." His eyes twinkled brighter. "Many times, it is a silent hand which steers more steadily than one on the helm."

Keira's forehead creased. But the wizard just winked, tapped his nose, and left.

Without time to digest the wizard's peculiar words, the soft click of the door jolted her to the present. There was a long, quiet moment which stretched out like a watched clock, and before she met Glorfindel's gaze, Keira took a deep, slow breath.

And there it was. That stare which had become all too familiar. He was leaning against the mahogany desk, his eyes inscrutable behind the shadowy light, but he may as well have been miles, inches away. It made little difference. Inhaling sharply, she dropped her eyes and cursed the fickle thing she'd called courage.

The sound of his footsteps crossing the room caused her heart to race. What could she say to him? What would he say to her? She shivered, unsure if it was due to adrenaline or the chill of the night air. Immediately, the weight of a cloak fell around shoulders.

Keira looked up, almost wishing she hadn't.

He was kneeling, gently holding the cloak's soft, velvet collar. His sudden proximity warmed her like the midday sun, and Keira wore impassivity like a mask. Deep down, however, she struggled for air. His hand reached out and she sucked in a breath, willing her frantic heart to slow.

Firm fingertips trailed down her cheeks. Keira watched as a dozen emotions flitted across his blue eyes, one never fully gone before the other appeared. She tried to speak, but her words failed, caught somewhere in the threads of her tangled mind.

"You have been crying," he said, so quiet she almost didn't hear.

"Yes."

She was aware of the waver in her voice. Glorfindel's eyes closed and something in his hurt posture made her heart sting. He looked up, and the sting doubled, spreading along her veins like fire.

"I must ask your forgiveness, Keira." His hand trailed the side of her face. "I lost myself. In anger, in fear. It hurts to know I have caused you pain."

Keira reached up and held his wrist, ignoring her quickened pulse and the uncertainty lingering in her brain. She tried to steady her voice, but it came out fractured and bent. "I don't understand, Glorfindel. Why? Why were you so angry? I was just trying to do what I thought was right, what I thought I was supposed to do."

Glorfindel briefly bowed his head, his hair falling like a gilded curtain around him. Then he stood, turning with alarming speed, so quickly it made her falter. Steadying herself on the door, the distance opened back up between them, the canyon growing larger.

Keira shook her head and her eyes narrowed at his back. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This wasn't how _they_ were supposed to be. With a deep breath, she took several quick steps and closed the distance. "Why, Glorfindel?" she repeated, thankful the quiver had left her voice. "Don't I deserve to know? Can't you at least tell me that?" She ground her teeth at his turned back, frowning. "Look, I know there are things we can't talk about. But please, I'm asking you to just tell me _why_."

At the pain in her voice, Glorfindel turned, and Keira's breath caught at his expression. It was as though the question had caused physical hurt, and it etched into the edges of his angular face, pulling at the corners and twisting her heart. It didn't belong there, she decided, and her fingers ached to smooth it away.

Glorfindel stepped closer. He watched her with solemn eyes, and her vision wavered with the intensity. Reaching for her face, Keira's breathing stopped entirely at his words.

"Because, Keira," he said, moving even closer. "Because the thought of you leaving, going willingly into danger so vile, so abhorrent, was enough to–" He clenched his jaw. A moment passed before he lifted his head. "Because if you had left," he whispered, "I would have spent every moment, every breath wondering how you were. Wondering if you were hurt, or afraid, or alone."

"But you–"

"Because if you had left," he cut her off, taking her face in both hands, "I would have spent each moment wondering if you would come back. Wondering which words would have been our last. Each moment would have been a thousand lifetimes, knowing there was nothing I could do to protect you." His blue eyes blazed into hers, and the ground wavered beneath her feet. "So that, Keira. _That_ was the cause of my anger. _That_ is why I was afraid."

With a shallow gasp, Keira did everything possible to keep her feet upright, to keep her breaths from breaking. Her heartbeat stuttered wildly as the hot sting of tears peppered her eyes, and his familiar, all-encompassing stare left her exposed under the dim light.

A minute passed, then a second, then an eternity. And yet, she still struggled for words in her sandpaper mouth. Lifting her chin, she struggled for her voice. "I'd like to think I wouldn't need protecting."

His smile was faint. "My peace of mind would have demanded it." His hands dropped, leaving her face cold in their wake. "Should you have gone, I would have undoubtedly been close behind."

Keira shook her head. "No," she said, still reeling from his words. "No, that's ridiculous. There's no way you could've gone." With her chest still heaving from emotion, Keira raised a shaking finger. "Actually, there have been many discussions detailing why it be an awful idea. For starters–"

"Keira–"

"Your very presence is like a giant beacon–"

"Keira–"

"–one which would have _immediately_ given away the Ring's location–"

"Keira–"

"And not to mention–"

Glorfindel cut her off with two fingers on her lips. For a moment, his eyes were soft, all traces of their previous grievance gone. Then, as though stamping out a fire, the softness changed, and they were now alight with their previous blaze.

"You must know, Keira," he said, his stare dropping to her lips as his fingers slid away, "It pains me to keep things from you. Should I have my way, there would be no secrets between us." Blue eyes locked with green. "But I must ask a promise of you. Promise me, Keira, that you will not hide yourself from me. I cannot go where you do not allow. I cannot help where I cannot see. Will you give me your word?"

Keira released a shaky breath, certain she wouldn't have the strength to deny him anything if he kept looking at her like that. Swallowing hard, she nodded, fighting down the odd twinge growing in her chest. "I promise, Glorfindel."

His heart-wrenching smile lit up the small study, and Keira quickly found herself in his arms. She breathed in his masculine scent, a private smile ghosting her lips. The weight of the world slipped from her shoulders; and for a long moment, they stayed like that. Neither pressing the silence for unspoken questions, neither demanding answers the other could not give. It was a silence of unwitting truce. And for now, Keira supposed, it was a silence which belonged to them both.

* * *

It was late.

The chill of the night crept in and around the room, quietly poking its head around the sleeping girl, searching for a way past the thick blanket and around the borrowed cloak. Finding no entrance, it hung in the air, suspended and quiet at first glance.

It was one of those dreams in which she knew she was dreaming, one which had all the makings of a nightmare.

The girl felt the darkness before she opened her eyes. It was a cold, creeping shadow, one which reaches you before it has any right to. It was a darkness which dared her to look, while a quiet whisper told her to keep her eyes shut.

Against her better judgment, she opened her eyes. The darkness stretched on without any end in sight. The girl brought a shaking palm to eye level, waving it back and forth, and began the short, labored breaths of someone close to panicking.

"Wake up, Keira," the girl whispered, closing her hand into a tight fist. Her eyes darted helplessly in every direction. "This is just a dream. Wake up."

A cold, menacing laugh sliced through the impenetrable darkness. It came from every direction, from a hundred scattered places at once. The girl felt it seep into her skin, echoing through her bones as it grew closer and closer.

"Wake up," the girl breathed frantically, screwing her eyes shut against the sound. "Please, please wake up."

Just as the laugh was about to consume her, just before she was certain she was lost to it, Keira shot up in bed, beads of sweat sticking to the sheets and clinging to her like a second skin.

For a moment all she could do was glance frantically around her room. With shallow, ragged breaths, her eyes clung desperately to light filtering through the curtains, marking her skin with small streams of moonlight.

It was just a dream. Just a dream, she told herself.

As she laid back down, Keira drew the borrowed cloak more tightly around her. The silence in her room was louder than it should've been, louder than the night should've allowed.

As she closed her eyes, Keira swore the air tasted of static.

* * *

 **A/N: hello again :)**

 **Firstly, thank you all so much for your kind words regarding my brother and MIL. You are all so dear, so kind.**

 **Please, let me know what you think of this chapter. I know some of you were convinced Keira would join the Fellowship, and I'm so curious to hear your thoughts!**

 **As always, I adore you all.**

 **-dartwing**


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